Ao Oni: The Black Velveteen
by Where're Teh Twinkies
Summary: Fau Manor. It was cursed; possessed some atrocious monster and a black book of wicked magic - well, those were the rumors anyway. Haunted Mansion? Lame. But that's just what the manor wanted everyone to believe. How else could it have lured the cynical Hiroshi Yoshida inside?
1. Prologue, Mid December

All right, my first big series! I'M PUMPED! Tell me what you think of it! I'm planning on becoming an author at some point in the future, and practice makes perfect! Oh, I didn't' really spend too much time on this prologue, just several minutes, but if something bothers you and it MUST be tweaked, gimme some advice and I'll clean it up a bit

And guys, I don't mind flames (they make me want to try harder), but please don't go over the top. I know I'm not the best in the world and I have room for improvement, but seriously. Being a jerk takes the fun out of writing, so play fair :D

Enjoy! –Cappy

**Mid December**

Xxx

The air was eerie and cold, breezing through bare branches and ruffling dying shrubs. All was still around the condemned manor, or the manor that should have bulldozed years ago. Not that anyone ever ventured there: most were too terrified to even hang out within a mile.

It was a pretty long ways out from town and the safest way there was on a winding cobblestone pathway. The path and manor were surrounded with twisting trees and ivy covered 'Do Not Trespass' signs. But to those who didn't look for those sorts of signs, they were nonexistent. The manor was just a big, creepy house involving conspiracies and myths about its secrets. Though the town was superstitious, the thought of a curse placed on a mansion was too unlikely to notice. Obviously some people had never seen The Grudge.

Since no one cared to explore the abandoned mansion, it didn't really matter anyway.

But closed thoughts and constant ignores didn't stop the sparks of curiosity. There was something strange about the towering terror, something shady, dark. Once again, since most steered clear, no one knew for sure what was going on. Some had their suspicions, though, and it was a popular tourist sight for those with excessive courage and curiosity in what the mysterious shadows there held.

Not that those people ever really talked about their experiences. In fact, not many ever came back. Maybe they'd fled. or maybe they didn't go and said they did. You'd think the Ghost Hunters would have posted their two-hour video on the Sci-Fi channel, but they never did. In fact, no one has seen them since the Christmas they investigated two years ago.

That had been the last straw for the local high school Ghost Club. They had never paid any sort of attention to the manor, but now they decided it was time to research just what was going on and maybe discover an answer to all of these disappearances. They started researching in their free time. Old documents, scary storybooks, and local newspaper superstitions told many myths about demons, shadows, poltergeists, and ghosts. But there were two suspicions that caught the most attention:

-There seemed to be some sort of black magic spell book hidden deep inside the depths of the maze cellar,

-The book's chaperone was a beast. A legit beast. An Ao Oni, or a demon of blue.

They were rational solutions to most people's interest about the house, but they were still superstitions. Some took them seriously, but many ignored them and didn't think twice. Whatever suspicions were said about the house went unnoticed like the hidden signs that covered the forest grounds.

But whatever was inside that house, if something was indeed haunting it, it had to be pretty freaky to scare away tourists and Ghost Hunters alike.

But it's not just a tale being told here; it's a tragedy. No one had ever escaped too far from that house; no one had ever escaped too far from those woods. No one had proof there was something wrong with the manor and worst of all, no one could stop what was inside. No one had ever truly survived the daunting confides or their past close-deaths there. Most had gone insane with the memories and the rest had committed suicide.

No one had ever defeated the true evil that lurked in the shadows, until a senior from Gray Stone Academy and his crew stepped inside a few short months ago…


	2. Horror on the Steps

**All right, I decided to fix this series up a bit. It was like a sudden impulse—Twinkies! Edit your stories, you idiot! Grab some inspiration and go at it!**

**So here I go—newly improving these chapters! At first, I refused: "No, I'm too lazy, and freaking Writer's Block won't leave me alone." **

**Then, my subconscious smacked me and after an episode or two of watching Cry play Corpse Party, I finally decided I was ready to embark on the magical journey of editing!**

**It's a pretty gallant tale, I think. I hope to finish all the editing in the next week or two—maybe in the next month…I'm kidding, hopefully I won't take that long. But you guys know me—I'm so lazy! **

**Anyway, you guys go ahead and enjoy this chapter—I'll have more out soon! And check out my Rant Letters in Dear Bastard! **

**-Twinkies**

Horror on the Steps

Xxx

Hiroshi had never been a fan of ghost stories and creepy tales, mainly because they were bogus and only obsessive people believed in them. They were stories for idiots, and Hiroshi Yoshida was definitely _not_ an idiot. He could admit he was curious, but he didn't believe in superstitious conspiracies.

The only reason he was standing before the abandoned mansion was because his friends had talked him into going with them. But now that he was finally standing before the colossal manor, he sensed a disturbance in the wind. He felt the strange sensation that he was being watched, though there was no civilization for miles around.

It omitted a heavy floral scent that burned Hiroshi's nose. He rationed it couldn't be his friends: Takuro was…he would never use perfume. That would be so…awkward. And Nikoru wasn't the type to fancy that stuff; she was a tomboy.

Again, Hiroshi didn't believe in superstitions or fate, but he could admit there was something…off putting about the house. Maybe it was the fact that the manor had apparently been built decades, even centuries ago…and it was pristine. There was no erosion, no splintering, no chips in the paint. The house looked practically plastic.

"Why did I even agree to come?" Hiroshi grumbled dismissively as he turned and started back down the path to the highway. "You two have fun investigating, however I am going home. This is _not_ how I want to spend my Sunday evening—I've got an exam in the morning!"

"No, no, come on!" Nikoru ran after him, tugging on his arm and then his scarf. "You're already agreed to come here! If I'm going in, so are you!" She tripped over a board that was probably broken off from one of the upstairs shutters and choked Hiroshi with the scarf. She straightened quickly and loosened it around his neck. "Sorry about that."

Hiroshi scowled. "That's all right, but this adventure is discontinued!" His decision stood firm and he kept moving forward. "I have better things to do."

"But it's haunted!" Takuro exclaimed, following him and motioning at the front door.

"Haunted!" Hiroshi scoffed and whipped his falling scarf back around his neck. He turned around to face them with a sour glare. "Is this how low you've sunk? How old are you? Is this because of those idiots in the Ghost Hunter club? It was a hoax! There are no such things as ghosts, they're just scapegoats for the insane!" And he started back down the path again.

He had known Takuro Takashita and Nikoru Hanabusa since they were kids, and he had witnessed them doing some pretty stupid things. But this, this was just beyond all of that. They had their moments, but this was ridiculous! Ghosts and haunted manors? How childish!

As well as being the curious sort, they were both very virtuoso and athletic. Takuro was sang alto and was lead guitar in the academy rock band. He was also quarterback of the football team and one of the best batters on the baseball team. Nikoru was the lead vocalist of the band and enjoyed playing soccer. Secretly, Hiroshi envied their skills, but he had one thing to be proud of: His intelligence. He himself was envied by most of the student body for his legendary wit. Takuro and Nikoru were skater kids: Vacant and distant at times, but prepared and clever at the right moment.

But no matter how much he loved them, it amazed Hiroshi how such a short underachiever and an athletic idiot could be placed on such high pedestals at the academy.

"Come on!" Nikoru whined. "HiroshiPEN, don't deny me, man! I'll be your best friend!"

"You already are," Hiroshi grumbled.

"Then I'll be your _better_ friend!"

"I'm right here, dude," Takuro called blandly.

"If you sincerely want to be my 'better' friend," Hiroshi started, turning back to her, "then let's leave and I'll help you with you homework so that you could finish it for once."

"Come on!" Nikoru groaned, sniffing pleadingly in the cold. "Hiroshi, you're already here, so _please_! I'll love you forever!"

Hiroshi blushed and tried his best to maintain an indifferent air. He would ignore this feeling at all costs. She would never feel the same way, he had told himself time and time again. She was too lazy for him to date anyway, and they'd never get along: Nikoru would skip work to watch the new James Bond movie, and Hiroshi would scold her. They'd argue until Nikoru would huff a curse word and storm out of the house. Then Hiroshi would sit and wonder when she'd return, if she did.

Damn, why was he so worried about that now? He worked himself up over most things…

"Dude, Hiroshi, Mika's comin'." Takuro said. "I wanna look good for her! Help me impress her, HiroshiPEN!"

Hiroshi hesitated and ground his teeth. Takuro was obsessed with that girl.

Mika Anzai, Takuro, Nikoru, and Hiroshi had been friends since freshman year. Hiroshi also saw her daily in the Cram School Committee after school. She was the least superficial of any prep girl Hiroshi had ever met and he respected her quite a lot. She was kind, caring, and diligent. It was hard to find such a sweet girl in the world these days. She was also the secretary of Student Council under Hiroshi himself, who stood as President for the senior class.

Listening to Takruo speak about Mika, the girl he admitted to loving at first sight, so ardently made Hiroshi squirm. As much as he hated admitting he wanted to stay…he did. If Takuro could impress Mika by investigating a 'haunted house,' then certainly Hiroshi could do the same for Nikoru.

Nikoru's grip on his arm burned through his heavy jacket. "Satō said he wants to come. Or something like that, but he seemed interested."

Hiroshi's heart dropped. Just hearing that name made him want to punch somebody, preferably he-who-Hiroshi-would-rather-die-than-name (Satō). He was in over his head and meddling with affairs he would do better to have left alone. Nikoru was so incredibly oblivious to other people's feelings that she failed to realize he wanted to use her.

Satō had been hitting on her since early sophomore year. He had the most obvious 'crush' on her and literally everyone but Nikoru noticed. And who wouldn't like him? He was popular, the lead pitcher on the baseball team, he got amazing grades (not as outstanding as Hiroshi's), and he was a generous youth whom even the older women loved. The elderly dotted on him all he was every teacher's pet.

But for whatever reason, Nikoru apparently didn't think of him as anything else besides a good friend. She even admired Hiroshi more than she did Satō, which provided some comfort for Hiroshi.

But dammit, why did just that name piss Hiroshi off? At least Hiroshi wasn't superficial; Satō was transparent. Girls referred to him as a 'harlequin boy' and claimed he was so amazing it was too good to be true. And indeed it was: He was cruel and sort of a sadist. He ruled his home, over his parents, and over the weak students who he bludgeoned for money. He devised schemes and practiced them on the poor or used them for revenge.

He was a spoiled rich kid with no supervision. He had his own gang. A small one, but none the less a gang. They keyed cars and stole from broken in homes. And, of course, since his family was so far up on the scale his antics were kept out of the newspapers. But Hiroshi wasn't stupid. He could sense the distortion in the atmosphere when that player was around.

Hiroshi wondered every day, how does no one else see what's going on? Then he'd remind himself; Satō was in the untouchable clique, the money clique, and the clique that no one questioned because they 'ruled society.' It wasn't fair.

Hiroshi wished he could tell Nikoru and Takuro, but there was conflict. Takuro and Nikoru had the same homeroom as Satō and they liked him well. As well they should—Takuro couldn't tell the difference between a turtle and a tortoise and Nikoru…Well, she couldn't tell the difference between friendship and love. They became an athletic trio in no time; Satō earned their trust easily.

And as well as being incredibly oblivious, Nikoru was also naïve and could see good in everyone. Once someone had earned her favor she could never dislike them. She was good at keeping her ridiculously horrible temper at bay so she didn't lose many friends; unless they took her busybody actions the wrong way and took them as rude and insulting.

Satō lost his grandfather the first week of freshman year. Hiroshi had told Nikoru he felt something was wrong, but she had taken pity on Satō and scolded Hiroshi. Hiroshi dropped the subject and hadn't started any conversation about Satō with either her or Takuro, who played on the same ball team as Satō. They were pals.

Hiroshi scowled at himself; Thinking the way he did always put him in a bad mood. But could he honestly help it if that damned Satō burned him with—dare he even think it?—jealousy?

"Hey, HiroshiPEN, you look sick."

Hiroshi blinked, relieved he could clear his head. Nikoru nudged him. "Yes, I'm fine. Just a little cold." Then he set his attention on Takuro and snapped, "If you're going to be difficult, then I'll be nice, but just this once! Don't become accustomed to it, you idiot."

Takuro flashed toothy grin and nodded. "Cool dude! Thanks!"

"Yoo-hoo!"

Turning, Hiroshi discovered Mika and Satō strolling up the path with two extra: that blonde kid…well, he was from the Ghost Hunter Club, Hiroshi knew that, and that new student, Naoki Kimura, was walking in-step beside him. Takeshi looked a little stiff and awkward, seemingly shrinking away from Naoki, who looked totally at ease.

Though the blonde kid and Hiroshi had attended the same schools since seventh grade, Hiroshi still didn't know much about him. He was just some blonde kid with a rather large nose. As for Naoki, he was an interesting character. He appeared to be bi, or maybe he just liked teasing Hiroshi because it made him laugh to see him irritated. He had been attending the Academy for almost a month now and had taken an immediate liking to Hiroshi. Naoki appeared to be a pretty down to earth kid, and Hiroshi supposed liked him rather well.

But over the course of the last several weeks, Hiroshi had started to notice Naoki and Nikoru were a little awkward when they were within proximity of each other. He couldn't explain it, but they had some tension between them.

Nikoru backed away or tried to ignore him—out of character for such an outgoing spirit. Naoki didn't seem to mind. In fact, Hiroshi could even say he was in a lot better mood when they weren't around each other.

It had Hiroshi worried. When Nikoru was around, Naoki chatted enthusiastically with every soul who walked his way, complimenting Hiroshi on his scarf and dotting on him where others could hear. When Naoki was gone, Nikoru behaved freely and cracked jokes constantly. There was definitely something strange there. Even Takuro and Mika had become excessively aware of him after they noticed the drastic change in behaviors.

Takuro was immediately on his feet. He greeted Satō, who returned his gesture with a few words Hiroshi didn't quite catch. Hiroshi scowled at them.

_Don't trust him, you idiot!_ Hiroshi thought belligerently. _He's using you!_

"Hey, babe!" Takuro and Mika hugged and kissed. The blonde kid covered his eyes and turned the other way, trembling as if he were struggling not to cry.

Naoki's grin turned slightly into a grimace when he glanced at Nikoru seated on the manor steps beside Hiroshi. Ignoring Naoki, she stood and hugged Mika, then greeted the blonde kid with a noogie. Hiroshi thought she might scare him away, but he didn't make any attempt to save himself. He greeted Mika back when she called to him and he nodded at Naoki who smiled again in return.

The blonde shuddered when Mika's hand touched his shoulder. She said, "Hey, guys! You know Takeshi Sasaki, right?"

Takuro laughed and ruffled the blonde's hair. "Yeah, you're that Math Club kid!"

"Uh, Ghost Hunter Club…" Takeshi murmured timidly.

"Yeah!" Takuro slapped his back and nodded enthusiastically.

Hiroshi nodded, too, with sharp courtesy. He glanced at Nikoru and watched proudly as she high-fived Mika for complimenting her new orange Nikes. She greeted everyone but kept her back to Naoki. Hiroshi suddenly felt uneasy.

"And Naoki!" Takuro shook his hand, but the movement was stiff. "What's up?"

Naoki shrugged. "Not much. Mika was talking about having a haunted adventure, and I thought it might be fun to tag along. Thought it would give me something to do for the weekend." He glanced at Nikoru and then smiled flirtatiously at Hiroshi. "All long as Hiroshi-kun there doesn't mind!"

Hiroshi almost gagged. "'Kun?' Don't kid yourself, Kimura."

Naoki smiled wider. "I live for that!"

Nikoru made a gag face behind his back. Hiroshi barely had time to notice before she was still again and rubbing her eye.

"Ah, Nikoru!" Satō exclaimed, walking to her side. Hiroshi bit his cheek, keeping himself in check and fighting the urge to rip one of the plastic-like shutters and smack Satō with it. "Fancy seeing you here, huh?"

Nikoru smiled again and Bro-fisted him. "Yeah, I didn't think you'd actually be coming."

Satō's eyes lowered to her chest for a minute—Hiroshi noted this lividly—but he disguised it with a pitiful excuse for a cough. "Of course I did! I told you I would. But excuse me, it seems I've caught a slight cold."

Nikoru smiled compassionately. _Fool!_ Hiroshi wanted to scream._ Don't you dare believe him for an _instant_!_

"Satō!" Takura exclaimed, "Did you really make the Harvard Scholar Roll?"

Oh, Hiroshi hoped not. That was a big honor, a scholarship for math whizzes and top notch lawyer-like people. It was a scholarship for the truly intelligent. Hiroshi knew as a fact that he was _way_ smarter than Satō Aoki and could take him out in any subject any day.

And Hiroshi had tons of collages fighting for him. Maybe if Harvard were fighting for him, too, he wouldn't feel so anxious. He was beginning to wish Nikoru had never met Satō—and sighed regretfully. Had he really sunken that low? There wasn't any point in acting so selfish and covetous anyway; if anyone had the right to be jealous, it was Satō. Hiroshi slumped and silently cursed himself.

I'm being so childish! Get a grip, Hiroshi. You're the better man here! At least you're actually cement…

Satō chuckled cordially, "Now where did you hear _that_?" Damn him for being so popular and good looking.

"You've gotta be kidding! The entire school's talking about it!"

"Takuro, don't flatter him!" Mika interjected. "His head will swell!"

Everyone laughed at that, except for Hiroshi and the still awkward Takeshi. After everyone had sobered, Nikoru was the first to speak: "It's seven thirty, guys." She sniffed avidly and shrugged in the direction of the front door as she slid her hands in her jeans' pockets. "So, we goin' in?"

"We goin' in," Takuro confirmed, and he took hold of Mika's hand as they started up the steps.

Hiroshi sighed and stood just as Naoki reached the third step. He bounced on his heels and linked his arm with Hiroshi's. Satō smirked behind them and dragged Takeshi up the stairs with him. Takeshi whimpered and gripped the sling of his frog backpack tighter, mushing his lips into a line. But Hiroshi didn't notice any of that; he only had eyes for Nikoru's back as she kicked down the door and strolled inside with her handy-dandy pack of neon glowsticks poking out of her Adidas jacket's pocket.

This was going to be a long night. And, little did they know, a night that would be engraved in their minds.

Forever.

Xxx

By the way…the band—singing and guitar—have a purpose in this story. Don't worry, this isn't a musical! Think The Goonies, guys, particularly the part with the piano. I wouldn't add something to a character if it didn't have any sole purpose!


	3. Horror in the Foyer

Horror in the Foyer

Xxx

Takuro found a light switch right next to the door and he carelessly flicked it on. The group halted and gaped in awe; everything looked absolutely normal, as if a maid had just stopped by that day. No dust, no scattered items, no rotting floors, no blood, nothing. It was just as pristine as the outside.

There was a staircase off to the side, a door further down the isle beside it, and two junctions off to the left and right. The setting was just so wonderful for a mansion in the middle of nowhere.

Hiroshi couldn't place a finger, but he knew there was a problem. He felt as if he were being watched, but waved the feeling away, concluding he was being infantile. However, it made him slightly uncomfortable, and it didn't help having Naoki cling to him like a child.

"Wow." Nikoru whistled, glancing around. She sniffed in the clean air and blew her bangs out of her face. "Nice place."

"Yep," Takuro agreed. "Big and comfy."

Nikoru sniffed airily and glanced at Naoki. They locked eyes for a moment while the others commented on how spacious the place was. Then Naoki turned to Hiroshi and grinned. "So, Hiroshi-kun, how do you like the place? It's interesting, isn't it? I personally think it's roomy and I bet it was beautiful in its day. Oh, I wish I could have met the family who first lived here!"

Nikoru rolled her eyes and turned to Takuro and Mika, settling for a calm conversation. Naoki acknowledged it and smirked. Hiroshi caught him out of the corner of his eye—then Naoki smiled warmly. "Anyway, very interesting. Yes. Very nice!"

That was strange. Again, it seemed they were competing for attention. Why? How many licks does it take to get to the center of a tootsipop? If the world didn't know, Hiroshi didn't either.

_I'll just face it_; Hiroshi thought wearily, _they're both extraordinarily weird and shouldn't even be worth my time…_

"Yeah right," Takeshi mumbled cynically. "_Nice._ Ha. Yeah right…"

Nikoru and Takuro exchanged sheepish glances. Hers said, 'Dude can't take a joke,' and Takuro's said, 'Well, he's fun to mess with at least.' Satō laughed and pulled Takeshi over in front of the tall staircase. Nikoru loitered by Mika and Takuro stood close by. Naoki strolled, still linked with Hiroshi, to fill the rest of the circle.

"I don't like this, guys," Takeshi whimpered. "It's really creepy in here, and I-I-I don't think we're aloud to trespass." Satō smirked, trying to keep his laughter at bay. "B-besides, there's a monster here! It's like an oni or something!"

Hiroshi sighed irritably. "Ao Oni? You idiot. You must be joking."

Naoki giggled girlishly. "Oh, Hiroshi-kun! You can be so blunt! It's so funny!" And then everyone laughed except for Takeshi, who was slumped in shame.

A smile crossing his handsome, dark face, Satō nudged Nikoru playfully. "What do you think, Nik?" Hiroshi burned—a pet name? "I mean, we're all pretty skeptical here. So how about it? What's your opinion?"

Naoki cleared his throat rudely but Nikoru grinned. "I've got glowsticks. If there's a freaking monster, I'll own it with the power of neon."

"Yeah right!" Takuro snorted. "You're probably so terrified your insides are melting!"

"Takuro, do you like you mouth where it is? I think it would look prettier up your ass." Nikoru countered mockingly.

He snorted, struggling with laughter, but quickly sobered enough to say, "How could I eat ice cream with my ass?"

"You're right, you're not very creative…" Nikoru grabbed her chin and pretended to look thoughtful.

Mika and Satō busted out laughing. Takeshi's ears rang and he cringed away, knocking his elbow against a railing. Naoki indifferently laughed right along with them. Hiroshi rolled his eyes; play fighting. The usual.

"Yeah? Well…!" Takuro sputtered incoherently for a moment before trailing off with a defeated glare. He narrowed his eyes at Nikoru. She laughed a little and sniffed in amusement.

Those two were always at it like that, bickering about something stupid. Half the time it was just for fun, but when they did actually fight, tt was over something small and ridiculous. Hiroshi found himself remembering all the past times they'd shared like this.

Like the time they tied him to an office chair and drove him to the fairgrounds. They argued over what to buy, what to ride, everything—but whenever Hiroshi made a comment, they'd jump on his decision.

"_Guys, we should get coffee. Who's with me?"_

_"Nah, I want tea."_

_"Come on, man, coffee is way better!"_

_"Dude! Tea is the awesome!"_

_"Tea is for losers."_

_"I'm not a loser! You're such a dick"_

_"Well you—"_

_"Just shut up! Both of you! Just buy coffee and tea and call it a day!"_

_"…Dude, that could actually work."_

_"My man Hiroshi, always the one with the killer idea. You go, man!"_

Hiroshi almost smiled despite himself. They were so stupid, and yet they still meant the world to him. He wanted to clonk their heads together a lot and developed headaches frequently and sometimes he even wanted to kill them, but they were his family, and that was all that really mattered.

"So, now that we're here," Mika said, "what should we do?"

"Split up?" Naoki suggested, stealing a glance at Nikoru. She was suddenly very interested in one of her Converse and she sniffed quietly. "I think it would be a perfect plan based on the fact there are a lot of us here and so many places to explore."

"Sure." Takuro rubbed his hands together and gazed sideways at his beloved. Anyone could guess what he was thinking. Takeshi stole a gloomy glance at him. "Sounds like a plan!"

"Takuro's with me!" Mika shouted enthusiastically. Hiroshi noticed the slightest blush on said idiot's cheeks. Takuro bounced on his heels in excitement.

Takeshi suddenly looked pallid and Hiroshi had only a second to recognize grief etched into his frown before he turned away.

Naoki chuckled and rocked Hiroshi's arm. "You'll have to team up with me, Hiroshi-kun!"

"Not if my life depended on it," Hiroshi spat.

Naoki took an exam in a Literature class the month prior over Sherlock Holmes. Incredibly, his test score was the highest in the class and so he had earned the name Sleuth. A super-intelligent mind paired with a mind set for clues. They would make a pretty rational team. But Naoki could be…really annoying when he wanted to be.

Satō shrugged and lifted the hefty backpack off of Takeshi's shoulder. "All right, Nikoru and I will hang out and help Ghost Man here set up while you guys look for that monster."

Hiroshi sighed in annoyance. "So stupid. There's no such things as 'monsters,' especially not _here_." He was surprised when Nikoru didn't copy him in her Consuela voice, something she'd picked up from some Swedish guy on Youtube. She was looking around as if an invisible butterfly had caught her attention.

Satō frowned at him and shifted with the pack weight. Before he could respond, there was an abruptly loud shatter from down the right hallway. Takeshi jumped and squealed; Mika stepped closer to Takuro; Nikoru's breath had hitched and Naoki made a soft 'whoa.' Satō nibbled on his bottom lip and Hiroshi didn't even flinch. He pulled a long face and shook his head.

"You're all paranoid," he concluded sharply.

"What if it was the monster?" Takeshi shivered. "I really hope not. I mean, I didn't even wanna come! I-I-I just came because I didn't wanna be rude to Mika, and I thought that—" He cut himself off and swallowed.

Satō laughed again and patted his shoulder. "No worries. Hiroshi says there's no monster. He must be right."

Hiroshi wasn't sure how to take that.

Satō leaned in close to Takeshi's ear and murmured loud enough for everyone to hear, "Unless you've gotta crush?"

"I DO NOT!" Takeshi screamed. Then he sheepishly cleared his throat, stole a glance at Mika, and mumbled, "Uh-uh, if you guys don't wanna go, I'll go check…it…"

Hiroshi shrugged his arm out of Naoki's grip and grouchily walked off to investigate. "If you're all going to be idiots, then _I'll_ go."

Naoki pouted dramatically. "But Hiroshi! You're my _teammate_!"

"Just stay there," Hiroshi demanded. This was what he meant by annoying.

"All right, bring me back something cool, Hiroshi." Nikoru said, playing with her box of glowsticks.

His heart skipped a beat like it always did when she called his name.

But he didn't falter; he couldn't in front of Satō. That poser had an obsession with her and Hiroshi knew that if that bastard noticed any quick second of weakness in Hiroshi he'd be all over her. He clearly disliked Hiroshi in a silent way; glaring at him from across the classroom or scooting closer to Nikoru at the lunch table whenever he'd catch Hiroshi's eye on her.

Hiroshi kept on, brushing past a confused Takeshi and the otherwise indifferent Satō, who didn't even spare him a glance as he stomped by. It frustrated Hiroshi that he was more affected by Satō then Satō was of him.

"Cool!" Takuro exclaimed with a fist-pump. "Good luck, HiroshiPEN!"

Hiroshi scowled at that ridiculous nickname. Takuro came up with it in tenth grade over something he couldn't remember well. Something about an anime convention, Nikoru dressed to the nines in some pirate costume, a pen, and nailing some vendor with a green and white-stripped hat in the forehead.

"While you're doing that, we'll set up," Satō announced and he led Takeshi to the stairs. They set everything down on the first step.

"Good luck, Hiroshi!" Mika called after him. There was a worried quiver in her voice. "Be careful! Watch out for bugs!"

"Yes, good luck, Hiroshi-kun!" Naoki chuckled. It sounded rather sour but Hiroshi quickly dismissed it.

"Quiet, you," Hiroshi grumbled.

"Want me to go with you?" Nikoru asked. Hiroshi swore she sounded desperate.

He turned for a quick second just to say, "It's fine," and then he was off again.

Xxx

Nikoru watched Hiroshi go and sniffed uncomfortably as he disappeared around a corner. In her peripherals she noticed a sly smirk crossing Naoki's lips. She pretended not to noticed but fumed on the inside. He ruined everything! She felt inferior to him—I guess you could say she felt as if Naoki was taking over her place next to Hiroshi.

It was funny how Hiroshi had been her inspiration for making it through many of the obstacles she'd faced. They had been through a lot together.

They'd known each other since first grade. She and Takuro met Hiroshi for the first time and agreed he would be too much fun to mess with. So they bugged him daily, religiously. He ignored them at first but soon started arguing with them. Nikoru kept trying to kiss his cheek and Takuro kept trying to get a high-five out of him. Nothing seemed to work until the day the great fifth grade bully Shota Kim pushed her off a swing during recess.

That sparked something inside Hiroshi. He threw his face in that bully's and started shouting until a tight crowd had surrounded them. Takuro would have jumped in immediately but he was delayed due to other bullies trying to swipe his food. Once outside, he saw Nikoru on the ground and Hiroshi in some fat kid's face and he knew it was a showdown. He ran over and said some rather obscene things to the kid. Pissed off that some dork kid was nose to nose with him, the bully swung at Hiroshi's face.

He hit him right across the bridge of his nose and damaged his eyes; hence the glasses Hiroshi has worn till this day.

Hiroshi became infuriated and he swung right back. For such a nerdy, wimpy kid, he sure packed a punch. He nailed that kid right between the eyes with a fist of steel and sent him flying backwards like a bird. Then, Hiroshi turned around and stared blindly at Takuro and Nikoru. There was a deep gash along his jaw and an inward dent on his nose. A liquid, triumphant fire raged in his.

It was one of the most amazing and inspiring moments of Nikoru's life.

Of course, the teachers came out and restrained both Hiroshi and the bully. They even went as far as calling on his parents for an expulsion. Hiroshi's parents dismissed the suggestion and took him straight to an eye doctor.

Since that day, Hiroshi had been known as a legend among the elementary schools and he was still well known in high school. In fact, those dorky glasses he wore made all the girls swoon harder.

After that experience, Takuro immediately took a stronger liking to him and Nikoru fancied herself in love with him.

Since then, people called them Three Musketeers.

And then there was the first time she had been on stage. Hiroshi told her again and again that she needed to find something more intelligent to do instead of being surrounded by drunken groupies. He went as far as telling her he wouldn't dare watch one of her concerts; it was meaningless.

It was her first real gig, and she was shaking in her socks. Not even Takuro could calm her down. Her gaze swept over the room quickly and then suddenly stopped. White hair and nerdy, circular glasses caught her eyes. It was Hiroshi, scowling but standing there like he belonged. He gave her a thumbs-up and the music started.

It had been one of her best performance. Of course, she had made a few mistakes but no one noticed, which gave her the confidence she needed to continue along this career path. Hiroshi made it to every concert after that. It touched her that he was so dedicated to seeing her every time, even though they had started on a rocky surface beforehand.

She'd never realized what it truly meant to have a best friend. She'd always had Hiroshi and Takuro by her side whenever she needed them. But she had never realized how deep those bonds went until Hiroshi bought her a bouquet of daisies after she sang the school anthem at the first football game of the year. The nerves from before the performance and gratitude and excitement between flowers and ovations swarmed her until she broke down, crying exhausted tears as she realized how far she had come with this early career, and how far she and Hiroshi had come as friends.

And then there was that undeniable feeling of passion. Since the time they had grown, Nikoru's crush had grown into the most ardent form of love. It was infuriating when the academy girls fawned over him—especially the Freshmen girls. They were so immature and obvious; if you're going to hit on someone, at least make it subtle. But those girls…they were like man eating bunny rabbits. They talked about him all the time in every class, made daily trips past the Cram Committee's room, stalked him down the hallways, and she had caught them glaring Naoki's way several times, but it didn't make her feel any better since they glared at her with the same intensity—

"Hey, Nikoru, help me with this."

She snapped out of her trance and focused on Satō. The others were already gone, but he was helping Takeshi pop batteries into the back of some cameras and EVP recorders. "Yeah, sure." She hurried over and grabbed a camera and some batteries. "But I think I wanna check the place out for a bit."

Satō slumped in disappointment…and irritation maybe? "The left hallway's open, and they all went upstairs with flashlights," he replied casually, acting as if he hadn't been sulking. Takeshi squeaked when Satō twirled a camera up into the air and breathed a sigh of relief when he caught it. "You wanna go check that out or would you rather hang out here and help out with the technical equipment?"

"Nah, I'll go investigate," she resolved. "That's what I came to do, anyway. You guys enjoy that stuff." Deciding she was far too lazy to find the hallway's light switch, she pulled out a glowstick and cracked it.

Satō grinned after her, enjoying the view of her nice butt. "Ah, yes, we will!"

The moment she thought no one could see Nikoru frowned thoughtfully and sniffed again, quietly. Why did that asshole Naoki always ruin everything? Why did he even tag along? Why did Mika invite him in the first place? It was so stupid!

What she would give to be a serial killer.

"Hey," Satō shouted, "be careful down there, will you? I don't want everyone getting mauled by raccoons or something."

Nikoru scoffed and waved the glowstick into a blur. "Neon."

Satō chuckled and plugged the computer cord into an outlet. It sparked ferociously and the lights flickered. Takeshi yelped and grabbed hold of the railing, eyes stinging and watering. Satō only laughed harder and expertly flipped the flashlight in his hand.

Xxx


	4. Horror with the Poser

So, hey, guys! How's your Christmas comin' so far? Mine's SUPER busy, I tell you! It's crazy with Chem finals. AP Chem is really freaking difficult…I suck at math…But anyway, enjoy the remake, guys. Inspiration goes to…Drum Roll…the original Ao Oni game, Highschool Drama, Numerous CreepyPastas that I've been reading, and H.P. Lovecraft! Gotta love that guy!Horror With the Poser

Xxx

Once he'd reached the top step, Naoki didn't say a word before sauntering off to the next floor. Not that Takuro or Mika minded, because of course they didn't.

When Naoki first attended the academy, Mika and Takuro hadn't been nearly as aware of him as they were now. In fact, Mika actually thought he was kind of cute. Of course, compared to Takuro, he was absolutely nothing. But that was one reason Takuro was so aware of him; any other man was a rival for Mika's love. Even though he didn't need to be—he had Mika's love wrapped around his finger.

No one had a reason to be suspicious of him at first; he was just a new student in a four hundred-thousand people school. He was instantly popular among the girls—he was very handsome and quite the charmer—and some of the guys even claimed he had turned them bi. He appeared to be a pretty good kid and Hiroshi took a liking to him after a few weeks or so.

But, for whatever reason, he and Nikoru didn't seem to like one another. It had started during the very first month: Naoki and Hiroshi had clearly established a relationship—a friendship—and Naoki had joined Cram Committee. Nikoru thought he was interesting and had started talking to him. Several days later, as Mika and Hiroshi were leaving Cram Committee one evening, they found Nikoru outside with a tray of coffee.

She always had coffee.

Mika and Hiroshi grabbed a cup, and they sat on the bleachers beside the football field, cheering Takuro on. That's where a rather mortified Naoki found them ten minutes later. Furiously, he pushed between Nikoru and Hiroshi—nearly knocking Mika off the narrow bleachers—and began arguing with Nikoru. Confused and insulted, Nikoru fought him defensively until Hiroshi snapped and yelled at them both, earning the football field's attention. Naoki then apologized and blamed his angry interruption on nerves and a lack of caffeine. Nikoru was all for continuing the argument, but Hiroshi regarded her sternly and she surrendered and reluctantly apologized.

Then Naoki sat between them and Mika noticed Nikoru was glaring at him.

Things had been different since. The group thought Naoki and Nikoru would work it out—the argument hadn't been that big of a deal to everyone else—but they were both still troubled. They rarely talked anymore unless it was during a brawl. They fought every other day, and when they weren't fighting, they were glaring.

Takuro finally slammed his hands on a desk one day, announcing to the group that there was a disrupted link between the two. Satō didn't really know what to think. Hiroshi was indifferent; he didn't understand the dilemma. He didn't really understand anyone's drama.

Mika wanted to know why Naoki and Nikoru showed a sort of passive-aggression towards each other. The only reason she'd invited Naoki along was to test the waters, examine their behavior when they were locked inside a haunted mansion for an entire night.

"Well, let's go find a room, if you know what I mean." Takuro nudged Mika playfully and winked. She giggled and squeezed his hand as he led her down the hallway.

Takuro grabbed the first doorknob he saw and turned to Mika again; "This room all good?"

"Mmm," She murmured and wiggled between him and the wall. "But lock the door, Naoki-san is scary."

Takuro laughed and kicked the door open. "'Course, baby."

Caught up in their hormones, they failed to notice the darkness settling around them even with the beams of the flashlights. The temperature was dropping, the air was quickly becoming dense. Then there was a sudden low seething, like a wisp of wind. It was hungry, starving.

Takuro slammed the door shut and pinned Mika against it with his hips. She shivered delightfully and hummed. They never went past making out—Takuro swore they'd be married before they took one step further. But that was still nice anyway.

Bending down, Takuro smashed his lips into hers greedily. "Oh, babe," he groaned. "You taste so good."

"Mmm!" Mika squealed, sinking her fingers into his hair and kneading. "Mmmm, I love you, Takuro."

Takuro bit her bottom lip appreciatively. "I love you, too, babe."

If they had a moment to spare instead of eating each others faces, they would have noticed the black orb wavering from behind a closet door. A toothy vortex opened in the shadows and a long dribble of drool slid down the darkness and dripped on the floor.

Xxx

Hiroshi grabbed the knob on the left door towards the end of the hall. It was locked. He snorted and turned away, facing the last door in the hallway. It was like the others, thick and red. But he could feel a draft coming from beyond; it curled around his feet as if pulling him there. Curious, he grabbed the knob and twisted it.

Inside was a comfy looking living room with a long wooden dining table, a polka-dotted couch, a rug, and a widescreen TV. It reminded him of Takuro's mismatched home.

_The sound must have come from here_, he mused. _It would be on the floor—it obviously fell and shattered._ He looked around, checking under the couch and the rug and the table and around everything else. _Okay, nothing here so it must be somewhere by the north wall_. There were multiple cupboards and a fridge, everything you'd expect in a kitchen.

He couldn't help but admire at how surprisingly clean and tidy this room was, once again surpassing the requirements of a creepy old house in the middle of the woods. The first thing that caught his eye was a small, brown mug sitting on one of the marble counters. He picked it up and examined it; dusty and it smelled like fresh coffee.

Hmm.

It had no importance to Hiroshi. He started to set it back on the counter when something below the mug caught his eye. His gaze flickered to the floor and landed on a decorative broken plate, shattered into several pieces scattered across the floor. This was what he had been searching for. Hiroshi replaced the mug, careful to set it as it was before, and clenched his jaw; there were no other dinner plates on any of the shelves and there was nothing in the sink.

_The shelves must be slanted_, he concluded as he bent down and began to carefully pick up all the slivers, using his scarf to hold them.

Being slightly OCD about messes, he picked up every piece until they were all cradled in his scarf. Then he stood and overturned his scarf into in the sink.

As he examined the pristine white contrasted by the silver sink, an overwhelming sensation of paranoia washed over him. He glanced over his shoulder. Nothing was there. He sighed, exasperated. _There's nothing there_, he thought angrily. _Don't be silly._

But just to be safe, he took one of the larger pieces for himself. _Might as well_, he decided. _Who knows, it might come in handy_, and he pocketed it.

Nothing else sparked any interest in him, but he searched the empty cupboards anyway before exiting the room. Wondering how much time that he had spent, he slid his sleeve down just far enough to view the honker of a Swiss watch Takuro had bought him for his last birthday. Eight twenty, he'd spent about ten minutes.

"What a complete waste of time," he muttered. All he'd found was that damn plate shard and a dusty old mug.

Before he could take another step down the dim hallway, there was a loud thump from above. It was immediately followed by a series of thuds. _Is someone running?_

Looking up, he rationed the floorboards weren't what they once were; of course they'd be creaking. They were old and liable to make noises, as would any floor in any other house. And half the party was probably up there besides Takeshi, Nikoru, and he-who-Hiroshi-didn't-want-to-think-about. However, knowing Nikoru, she had probably ditched the technical team and was exploring on her own. Or spying on Takuro and Mika. That was probably the only reason those two agreed to split up: 'alone time.'

And Nikoru was a filthy pervert…

But maybe there was something weird going on. Why else would someone being sprinting around upstairs for? What if someone had fallen through a rotting section of the floor? What if someone was hurt?

Hiroshi huffed and slapped himself. What was he so paranoid for? It was just an old mansion with overgrown weeds and a really nice interior! And there were no such things as ghosts or monsters. They were scapegoats for the insane. That was his logic and he knew he was right. What could go wrong? Unless an atom bomb happened to randomly fall on their heads, they were safe. No reason to be paranoid. Paranoia was just a chemical mix up of the mind, anyway. _No big deal!_

He pushed on to the foyer. The rooms had been pretty well lit so far but if a pitch-black room was around to question, he knew he'd want something to brighten things up. Takeshi had brought several flashlights in that frog pack of his. Surely he'd lend one to Hiroshi.

The atmosphere felt different from the last time he'd been in the foyer. There was a pressure in his ears as if he were underwater. Right off he noticed Takeshi was gone and his backpack had been overturned, spilling its contents all over the base of the staircase. Satō and Nikoru were gone as well.

"Takeshi?" Hiroshi called. He expected something from that terrified twit, but received no answer. "Nikoru, stop messing around!" Still nothing. "Nikoru, I swear, if this is another one of your immature pranks—"

The sound of a closing door interrupted him. Satō appeared on the other side of the staircase with a camera and a small yellow flashlight. His hair was sticking up everywhere, as if he had been in a rumble. "Were you yelling?" He asked innocently

Hiroshi narrowed his eyes and pushed up his sliding glasses. "Yes, I was. Where are Nikoru and Takeshi?"

Satō shrugged. "Nikoru went off somewhere with her glowsticks and I have no idea where Takeshi went." Noticing the equipment on the floor he sighed and stormed over to clean it up. "He was supposed to be charging the recorders," he muttered as he stuffed everything back into the pack. Hiroshi didn't know if he believed any of that. Satō was unreliable in his eyes.

"Well, where did you see them last?" He asked suspiciously.

Satō grunted and slammed the pack down on a step, plugging a few of the cords into the outlet. "Nikoru was off down that hallway over there." He gestured off to the left. "Knowing her, she's fine." Hiroshi's skin tingled. Knowing_ her? The nerve of this prestigious, stuck-up brat!_ "And Takeshi…" Satō trailed off, either concentrating on the equipment or refusing to say any more.

What was the point in talking to that idiot? He knew nothing. Hiroshi watched him intently, trying to intimidate him.

Satō looked back up and sat on the steps while his camera charged. "So Hiroshi, did you find anything? I can't imagine that entire hallway was empty."

"Of course I found something," Hiroshi snapped. He pulled the plate shard from his pocket and held it out for Satō to view. "Your 'monster' was a plate shard."

"How convenient…" Satō mumbled sarcastically.

Hiroshi felt some satisfaction. He hoped that moron felt stupid now. "Isn't it?" He said as he fit the shard back in his pocket. "How incredibly stupid you must feel."

Satō shrugged and shook his head. "No, I knew it couldn't be anything too serious."

"Oh, of course you did," Hiroshi growled irritably. "Because you obviously know everything."

Satō glared at him. "No, I don't, all right? Why are you so snobby?" Hiroshi was taken aback; Satō was calling _him _snobby? "Is it because I'm way more popular than you'll ever be? Because I'm better than you? Because I'll always be smarter?"

"No, I have a problem with how translucent you are," Hiroshi spat. "Well, I'll give you points for being such a fantastic actor, but I see right through you, Satō."

A dark glint entered Satō's eye. Yes, Hiroshi could see right through him. He was a flake; he pretended to be fabulous as a trick to manipulate people into doing his will. Hiroshi had encountered his kind before. Satō was untrustworthy, playing himself up to be some wonderful man. But he was a player and a poser, Hiroshi knew.

And he had his slimy, manipulative eyes on Nikoru. He didn't actually love her. He probably didn't even feel a thing for her. That's how he treated every girl.

"You think you're clever, don't you?" Satō ground out through his tight jaw. "You think you know everything, you hypocrite."

"No," Hiroshi corrected, "I just know what you're about. You're manipulative. You're fake, I know _that_."

Satō tilted his head. "Oh, I'm _fake_, am I? Wow, Hiroshi, you're so clever! I give you a point for being an asshole."

"I don't need your points," Hiroshi growled. "I've seen you, Satō. What you do to people. Bullying kids for their money, dating one girl and declaring you love her, then you sneak off to the movie theater with another girl. Do you take pleasure in ruining people's lives? Like your parents? I've seen the bruises you left on them the day before teacher conferences. Do you forget I live right behind you? You nearly broke your father's ankle pushing him down the—"

Satō flew over and slammed his fist right into the side of Hiroshi's head. The dorky round glasses flew from his face and collided against a wall. Hiroshi caught himself before he barreled into the floor. He had seen the fire in Satō's eyes before he stood, but this was unexpected. He felt like one of those kids Satō bludgeoned in the shadows and in a way it ashamed him.

"You think you're so smart, using smartass words like that as if you have a clue." Satō's pupils were swimming in a pool of black. "What the fuck gives you the right to say that kind of shit to me, eh? What the fuck do you know? You don't even know me!"

"You're a manipulative bully who schemes on people you deem under you!" Hiroshi snapped. Satō looked incredulous. "Yes, I know exactly who you are, Satō!" His name sounded like a curse and that pleased Hiroshi. "You didn't expect anyone to know about you, did you? But I happen to notice things and I can see how tense others are around you. The only reason you aren't in jail is because your parents cover up your crimes. They love you, yet you've been so spoiled your entire life, you think you're entitled to rule over everyone—even your own parents! You're cruel and you don't even realize it!"

"Oh, shut up, four eyes, no one gives a fuck about what you think!" Satō attempted to stomp his foot, but Hiroshi withdrew it just in time and quickly stood. The floor rumbled. "That's a bunch of _bull_, asswipe! You've got _nothing_ on me!"

"Then why did you just punch me?" Hiroshi countered, rivaling his anger. They stood in silence for a moment as Satō processed what had happened. "You've been found out. Give up the charade." And Hiroshi backed away to retrieve his glasses, never taking his eyes off Satō. "Leave those kids alone and try to act civilized."

Triumphant, Hiroshi glided past him. He would go find Nikoru and explain to her that her so called 'friend' needed to change. That was a brilliant idea! Why hadn't he thought of that before? She'd be willing to help if it were worded that way.

_You idiot, Hiroshi!_ He thought to himself. _You should have thought of this before! It would have saved you the trouble of anger management…_

"Nikoru doesn't like you."

Hiroshi paused. Nikoru what? Was this another one of his little games? "What was that?"

Satō turned half way with a hostile glint in his eyes. It was almost murderous. "You heard me, wise guy. You didn't think anyone knew about you? Well I notice things, too, and I know you're in love with Nik—"

"WHAT!" Hiroshi spun around. "What—what gave you _that_ idea?"

"Coz it's obvious! You didn't think someone would notice?" Hiroshi grimaced as his own words were used against him. "And she knows and she doesn't like you." Satō could be desperate in dire situations. Anyone could be. Hiroshi wanted to believe that but it didn't stop the sharp tug on his heart. "She's interested in _me_, that's why she talks to me and avoids Naoki because she knows he wants to hook you two up. Besides, she'd look better with me, anyway. Everyone knows that." He smiled as if he had won the fight. "Even _you_ know that."

Hiroshi snorted defiantly. He wouldn't allow himself to believe that bullshit. "You are quite desperate, Satō, and I have one more thing to say to you: Fuck you and fuck your fantasies."

Satō's jaw dropped; he had never heard Hiroshi cuss. Someone should have filmed that for Youtube.

Satisfied, Hiroshi stormed down the left hallway. Satō watched him leave, burning and itching to hit him again. But his head was pounding and his legs were jelly. He felt faint; prissy boys like him were never ever told off like that. That had been unbelievable.

That had been overwhelmingly effective.

The dark pools in Satō's eyes were flooded with grief and fury. He would get revenge on Hiroshi Yoshida if it were the last thing he'd to.

Xxx

Jeez, sorry 'bout that. Fixin' up chapters is super effective!

No, anyway, you guys know it's the holiday—the most wonderful time of the year besides Halloween and my birthday—so I have an excuse!

…a really sucky one, but it's an excuse.

-Cappy


	5. Horror in the Truth

Yo, dudes! So…How's Christmas? Yeah, I thought it was the same as the last chapter. So run over any small dogs lately?…Two?! Oh, you're on fire, buddy!

Anyway, here's the next edit! Enjoy, my friends.

Inspiration goes to: **Ao Oni**! (Duh.) **The Psycho Children of Fever Lake **(a Hetalia fic—go check it out, it's awesome; by Shinginami-cat), **Lovecraft,** **White Christmas with Bing Crosby, **and **Alien**, because that movie is freaking awesome.

Horror on the Truth

Xxx

Nikoru didn't find much in the bathroom, just a simple sink, a toilet and some cabinets. Nothing special. She tapped on one of the walls and threw her dimming glowstick in the toilet while she hummed a little tune, _White Christmas_.

"So much for roadkill," she muttered, sniffing indifferently and pulling out a Twix from her jacket's pocket. Shifting in front of the sink around the corner, she broke one of the sticks in half and popped it into her mouth. "You'd think there'd be a light switch in a bathroom…That's probably what happened—they all hit their heads on the walls and shit and killed themselves! It all makes sense now!"

A twinge of guilt hit her. She made the sign of the Cross and raised her eyes to the ceiling. "Lord, I'm sorry, that was really bad." Turning from the mirror, she bounced on her heels as she strolled to the bathroom door and slid the other half of the Twix into her mouth. "But yeah, I wonder how they died. Sucks for them, no one really deserves to die, I don't think. At least not in a bathroom like Elvis…Was it Elvis? It was, right?"

If she had been paying attention, she would have noticed the flicker of red reflected in the mirror glass. As quickly as it appeared, it disappeared, but was replaced by a thick, bubbly, purple mass that foamed out of the mirror behind her. It bubbled and trembled like a chemical reaction as it stacked itself up into a tall, clear mass.

"I mean, damn!" Nikoru sniffed in pity and tossed the Twix rapper into a trashcan by the door. "Those guys got toasted! That's too bad."

The mass rose a foot and brought it down with one step forward. You would think there would be a _thud_ or the ground should have rumbled judging from its size, but all was silent. It made inaudible steps towards her. Two darker lines traced on what looked to be a head separated and opened to reveal a toothy, watering cavern of a mouth.

"But if they ditched this place instead of actually dying, then I kinda don't see why." Nikoru brought out another glowstick, cracked it, and grasped the knob. The cold metal made her shiver. "This damn house is supposed to be condemned! I don't get! Maybe the maid killed everyone…"

The mass was less than four feet behind her now. Small, red pupils illuminated it's translucent head, staring Nikoru down as it slowly made its way to her. But before it could close in, the door was pulled out of Nikoru's grip and revealed a very unamused Hiroshi.

Nikoru jumped and huffed her relief. "W-whoa. Don't scare me like that, HiroshiPEN! Jeez!"

He grabbed her elbow and yanked her out, slamming the door in the unnoticed blob's face. A deep growl rumbled from beyond the door, but went unheard. Hiroshi's eyes were on fire and there was a light purple splotch on his cheek. He pushed his glasses up with a sharp movement.

Nikoru flushed; did he have something to say? You know, something really important to tell her? About something special? Something she really wanted to hear? Eh? Eh?

"I have something I need to discuss with you," he started as he led her slowly back to the foyer, where she barely noticed Takeshi and Satō were gone. Nikoru's heart pumped; this could be it! "It's vital you understand this!" The moment she'd been waiting for! "It can't go unheard any longer."

THIS IS FUCKING IT!

"Satō is a _poser_!"

Nikoru went on smiling and stared at him. Had she missed something? She must not have heard him right; he was about to tell her something important. She shook her head vacantly. "Sorry, what?"

Hiroshi stopped her and stared effectively grave into her eyes, clearing his throat. Okay, she would make sure she could hear him this time. She wouldn't space out this time; she'd listen thoroughly. What he was about to tell her was going to change her forever!

"Satō. Is. A. Poser."

Nikoru frowned. Satō? A poser? How was that supposed to change her life? Unless she had heard him wrong again? Maybe he chickened out. "He's a _what_?"

"Jesus, Nikoru! Satō is a poser! Satō is a poser! How more blunt can I get?"

Nikoru sniffed, disappointed. "That's it? Nothing else?" She asked hopefully.

Hiroshi hesitated, she thought, but he quickly shook his head. "No, nothing."

Feigning irritation, Nikoru clicked her tongue and pointed at his cheek. "What's that?"

Hiroshi ran a hand across it lightly. "Where that jerk hit me."

Time seemed to come to an abrupt stop. Nikoru's jaw dropped. "…Excuse me?"

Hiroshi nodded and glanced at the foyer. His glasses slid down his nose and he pushed them up. "I-I know it sounds a little sudden and strange, but Nikoru, believe me. He's not the man you think he is. There's a dark side to that _wonderful_ student, and if you aren't careful he'll take it out on you like he did me."

Nikoru couldn't wrap her mind around what she was hearing. Sure, Hiroshi got jealous. Everyone did. He got frustrated with Satō occasionally, she saw that. But he was also confident and sure of himself. It would take a lot more than a Harvard thing to make Hiroshi self-conscious, especially since he was the smartest kid in the academy and he had the grades to prove it. He wouldn't flat out lie, definitely not like that. She could see sincerity in his eyes and determination, searching for understanding in her own.

But how was Satō such a bad person?

She stared hard at him, cogs turning in her head, digesting. "Dude…what happened?"

Hiroshi took a sharp intake and turned from her. Was he ashamed to look her in the face? "We argued—"

"About what?"

"Who he is. Nikoru, listen to me." He turned to her and grabbed her shoulders again, keeping eye contact. There was now desperation in his eyes. "He's cruel, Nikoru. Please, believe me. He pretends to be kind and caring but he's neither; he's manipulative."

Nikoru was still confused; she didn't understand what that meant. "So, he's mean, or…wait, what are you talking about? I'm confused."

Hiroshi was silent for a moment, depicting what to say. "He pretends to be kind because he wants publicity and he wants to use people," he replied finally. "He's pretending to be a good guy so that he can wrong others, cheat them out of their money, and control who he wants. He's been assaulting the younger students at the Academy and he's the one that's been keying cars in Rich Wood. Don't give me that look! I'm not lying!"

Nikoru looked back at the foyer, checking if Satō was there. Visually confirming he wasn't, she stared seriously at Hiroshi. "So he has a gang, you're saying? And he's a scheming jerk, you're saying? The guy is hating on people and no one knows this?"

Hiroshi nodded, relieved she was finally serious. "Yes, exactly. I know you think he's wonderful and nice, but please understand that's a facade he's pulling so that he can own you. He's manipulating you into liking him so that he can either abuse you later for his own wants or because he only thinks of you as a nice piece of ass!"

Hiroshi drew a breath and held it; he hadn't expected saying that. It had slipped before he could catch it. By the look on Nikoru's face he could tell she hadn't been expecting that either. Surprise flashed in her expression then settled on something like apprehension.

"D-don't take that the wrong way!" Hiroshi rushed. "That's not who you are! I mean, you're nice and pretty, not just a piece of—I mean, that's low and you're far above that—" He caught his sputtering tongue and swallowed; how much more was he going to let slip?

Nikoru grinned goofily. "Gee, thanks!" Then she remembered what they were talking about and sobered. "Wait, Hiroshi, you said he's…he hit you. He hit you?"

"I called him out on his facade, he denied it, and then he punched me!" Hiroshi exclaimed, throwing his arms parallel for emphasis. He paced back and forth before the foyer and continued venting, "I told him I knew he was hurting students and stealing from people when no one was watching. And he has been, Nikoru, he's been beating people up for lunch money at school, that's why they're terrified to be near him!

He's been cruel to everyone and the only reason no one knows this is because his parents, who are foolish to love him and spoil him like they do, keep his antics out of the papers and this clique he's in is untouchable! He has a gang. A spoiled gang with no supervision. He's the one who keyed Taski Mizuki's motorcycle last week because Taski didn't want to give up his girlfriend to pledge his loyalty to him. He's the one who's been stealing people's money in gym and he's the one who tried to corner those girls in the girl's bathroom." He stopped before her, his blazing eyes pleading. "I know I haven't the evidence you want, but believe me, I know what I'm talking about!"

There was a ghastly silence, one Hiroshi was willing, hoping for, Nikoru to break. Her expression was blank and she gazed at him distractedly. Would she believe him? He hoped so; it was vital she understood what Satō truly was before he tacked her under his control. She opened her mouth to say something and quickly closed it, thinking hard.

Finally, she sniffed apologetically and murmured, "I don't know…why would he…How does no one know…" Realization entered her eyes when she looked up and connected with Hiroshi again. She stared directly at his cheek and lopsided glasses and ran a tentative finger over the bruise. Hiroshi's breath hitched. "Holy hell, he hit you!"

Just now that had reached her? Hiroshi exploded, "YES, NIKORU, HE HIT ME! DAMMIT! HE'S SUCH A BASTARD! HE HAS TO MEDDLE WITH EVERYTHING!"

Nikoru jumped away, surprised more than anything else. Hiroshi gasped and jumped back, too. Guilt hit him like a brick wall; he had lost it on her. Losing his temper to that extreme was very rare for Hiroshi. Sure, he had a thing for making people mad, but he rarely turned to fire of that extent.

"I—I didn't meant t—to say it like that," he said hurriedly. Fear exploded in his gut. Would she hate him? Would she run from him? Would she run to Satō? "I didn't—I hadn't meant to—"

"It's all good," she said simply.

Hiroshi took a deep breath. "Are you sure?" Don't hate yourself, Hiroshi. You know she won't judge you. She wouldn't.

She shrugged nonchalantly. "I'm sure. Don't worry about it, it's good. It wasn't even a big deal." Then she sniffed and stepped forward to loosen his scarf. "Well, I can't imagine he's all bad…I mean, no, I mean, are you okay? Well, I mean, heheh, I know you're not okay…" She took a small step back, face flushed. "I mean, I don't know what I mean. Uh, he…" She absently itched her nose.

Hiroshi rose his brows, confused. Why was she so tentative suddenly? Why so hesitant and timid? How unlike her. He inhaled a shaky breath. "Nikoru, I didn't mean to yell. I'm just a little…on edge. I didn't meant to—"

"Hiroshi, it wasn't even a big deal! Don't worry about it." She looked down at her Converse, mentally burning holes in them. There was an Adventure Time styled one on her left foot and a neon purple one on her right. Their shoelaces were checkered yellow on one and rainbow zebra on the other. "I know you well enough to know you wouldn't lie about somethin' like that, so…I get, I get." She looked up determinedly at him. "But, man, he can't be all bad. I've known him for a long time, and I haven't seen him do anything too bad."

_Yes, but you don't see much,_ Hiroshi thought bitterly.

"I'll talk to him—"

"No," Hiroshi said abruptly, silencing her. "I don't want you talking to him. He's not mentally stable, Nikoru. I'm not sure he's ever been stable."

Nikoru sniffed; he was so overprotective. It was subtle, hidden like he hid most deep emotions, but he was worried. He didn't act like this towards Naoki. The doubt she had built beforehand about replacement left her. Hiroshi, on some sudden impulse, brushed a tangled, dirty red strand of hair behind her ear. She blushed furiously and her stomach swelled. Looking into his eyes she felt vulnerable and naked but she couldn't find the sense to turn away. Her mind had stopped working.

She could get used to this attention. Especially from him.

But the moment was short lived as Hiroshi backed off, shivering, and awkwardly itched his neck. "Hmph, I guess you…well, anyway," he started into the foyer, "Let's keep looking around, I guess. Where are you going to go?"

Nikoru didn't answer right away. She took a moment to clear the dirty images flashing in her mind and awkwardly sniffed, trailing a few feet behind him. She twirled the glowstick and waved it in the air, watching it blur. "Uh, well, somewhere. Maybe in that side door next to the stairs or the other hallway—"

"There's a locked door down there," Hiroshi told her, pausing before the stairwell. "I'm going to search for the key. You should look for it, too…"

Nikoru shrugged and stalked off down the side way, still trying to push the sacred memory of Hiroshi touching her hair only a moment ago. "Yeah, all right."

"Nikoru," he called as she stood before the door. "Be careful back there, I saw Satō stalking around there…"

She smiled at him and stepped through the door as she murmured, "Yeah, it'll be all good. I'll see you in a bit, HiroshiPEN."

Hiroshi watched her disappear, grinning subtly. "Careful…" He whispered when she was finally gone. "Don't fall for him, you idiot…please."

Xxx

Naoki smirked to himself as he watched a small purple orb cross in front of him and sink into the floor by his feet. He leaned against a wall and waited for the frantic screams and sobs, enjoying the anticipation. No one knew what was going to happen except for him. Takeshi had escaped, but he had planted what he'd needed to inside that fool Satō's heart. He could begin the possession now.

"Rivalry amongst enemies," Naoki chuckled. "His hatred will burn and evolve, and once he starts to lose it, I can begin." His grin faded into an ominous frown. "As long as he does not touch Hiroshi. If he does, then I shall have to cut the fun short."

In his hand was an old, dusty book, the antique characteristic of it masking its true importance. In due time it would change the world, forever, in a most unimaginable way. As long as the book was in his keeping only he could decide the fate of the world and more importantly the guests in the manor besides him.

Meaning Hiroshi.

"Ah, this will be a blast!" He exclaimed, dissolving into the shadows like a ghost.

Xxx


	6. Horror in the Library

Newly published; enjoy the new edit—this will be the last for the night! Horror in the Library

Xxx

Before Hiroshi reached the top step of the staircase, he glanced back over his shoulder, a gut feeling telling him something was missing. And he was right: the technical equipment was gone. Hiroshi scowled bitterly; _ah, yes, that poser must have taken everything. How infantile._

He pressed on up the stairs. _No matter, wherever Takeshi is, I'm sure he'll have a flashlight or two. Haha, Satō, you lose again!_

Hiroshi walked to the first door in his sight, a rather eroded wooden door with a wooden doorknob just a little too far to the left. It was locked, how wonderful. Scowling, Hiroshi stepped back and glanced around at his surroundings; it looked the same as the floor below with another staircase further off behind the stairwell he'd come up and there was a door further ahead of him as well as one down to the right.

One_ of these must be unlocked,_ he reasoned as he opened the door to the door right before the stairwell.

The knob was metal and chilled his hand like an ice cube. He dismissed a feeling of paranoia; that dense pressure from before had returned. He started to look over his shoulder but stopped himself. At the most, it was probably a mouse and nothing more could come from cowering away from an invisible monster.

"Don't be stupid, Hiroshi," he whispered as he twisted the loose knob. "There is no such thing as an ao oni. It's absurd to think otherwise!"

With a small push the door swung open; Hiroshi had to catch the knob before the frame hit the wall. He hurried into the room and shut the door behind him. Once again, he scowled at himself, knowing he was being ridiculous.

"This is ridiculous!" He muttered, turning from the door. This room, he noted, appeared to be a bedroom. There were cabinets against the far wall, a desk, and a closet in the right wall. The sliding doors of the closet were partially separated, but Hiroshi didn't acknowledge it. "Might as well start searching for clues."

With the locked room downstairs in mind, Hiroshi started exploring the cabinets, fiddling around with some of the knickknacks and slowly making his way to a table. Before he reached the chair, the tall cabinet in the corner shook. Alarmed, Hiroshi whipped around to it and pulled the chair out in front of him, braced to defend himself.

Nothing happened for several seconds. Now curious, Hiroshi warily walked to it, chair at his side. The cabinet shook again, less violently than before. Without giving himself time for second thought, Hiroshi grabbed the handle and pulled it open.

His jaw dropped and his brows arched; Takeshi was curled up on the top shelf in a puddle of flashlights. He recoiled from the light the open door brought in, teeth chattered. Then he slumped against one of the walls with his arms wrapped around his trembling knees. He didn't even seem to notice Hiroshi standing there.

"Takeshi!" Hiroshi exclaimed, astonished.

Takeshi didn't reply, only shivered harshly. The creaking in the ceiling from before recurred to Hiroshi; was it Takeshi running around?

"Where are the others?" Hiroshi wondered, trying to keep his tone soothing.

Takeshi shuddered at the mention of 'others.' His face paled and his eyes rolled up, revealing the white underneath. Hiroshi flinched; things were getting strange so suddenly. Why was Takeshi so despondent? He had been fine twenty minutes ago. He was already timid and shy, anyone could see that, but what would drive him to vegetation? He was hyperventilating and wheezing.

Then again, he did seem to be very over reactive…he had probably lost it over a mouse or a bug.

"Hmmm…" Hiroshi stared at Takeshi a moment longer, pondering the situation. Takeshi didn't have asthma or any other sort of respiratory issues. The worst health hazard he'd ever had was a broken wrist when he had tripped roller-skating last year. If he were overreacting, it would be nothing to worry about. But an abrupt abstraction in his safer theory suggested there was something else happening. Something deranged. "If you won't come out, I'll have to leave you in there."

Takeshi made no attempt to exit. Blinking estranged, Hiroshi left the cabinet doors open and continued searching the desk. There was nothing atop the surface, so he supposed there might be something in one of the drawers. He felt a little awkward since he was technically looting someone's belongings but he set the feeling aside; the family was long gone and they had chosen to leave their things behind. That wasn't his fault.

As he switched from one side to another, he noticed something glistening in the top left corner. Hiroshi ducked under the table and discovered it was a small silver key, the tip buried in the wood. He grasped it and tugged; it popped out without much effort.

Hiroshi stood, very sure he had never been puzzled by so many things at once. He was getting the feeling this manor was hiding something, and he thought maybe he should have seen that coming. Why else would this place be abandoned?

Which also brought something else to his attention: wasn't the house supposed to be condemned? It was supposed to be an eroded, rotting mess and here it was, spiffy and glistening as if it were newly built. Strange this house was. And what about the families who had lived there in the past?

The last family to live there had left nine years earlier and for an unknown reason. Whatever it was, Hiroshi could assume it was fantastically, dramatically horrible, otherwise he couldn't imagine someone leaving such a home. His heart wretched; could there be a possibility something was awry?

He stopped himself in mid-thought and sighed; he was being absurd again! What was this, wishful thinking? Did he really want something to be wrong with the house? Why was he so paranoid? There were no such things as monsters! They were scapegoats for the _insane_! There was nothing wrong with this house besides a few creaking floorboards and some mice.

He quickly turned his attention back to the key and started to examine it. He noticed a folded sticky note stuck on the underside. Brows furrowing, he peeled it off and unfolded it.

_Library Key._

_This must be it,_ he mused. _Why, it must be the key for the downstairs door—it _must_ be the library. Eureka, looks like I finally found something worth interest!_

The cabinet shuddered behind him and was still. Hiroshi, knocked out of his thoughts, turned to it and peered inside again. Takeshi's eyes were closed but his breathing had slowed.

_Maybe I should drag him out?_ Hiroshi pondered. _…Ah, if he wants out he'll come out._

Hiroshi hastily reached for a flashlight and started to retract his arm when Takeshi grabbed his wrist. Surprised, Hiroshi yelped and tried to tug his hand out of his iron grip. Takeshi was unrelenting and he pulled Hiroshi towards him until they were nose to nose.

_Where did Takeshi get this sort of strength?_ Hiroshi thought incredulously.

Takeshi swallowed, eyes still shut tightly, and whispered in a raspy undertone, "It's freaky, HiroshiPEN. It's freaking me—be careful. Watch out for it, HiroshiPEN!"

Hiroshi stared, confused. "What are you talking about, a ghost?"

"No…no, monster…monster, Hiroshi…" Takeshi slumped and released Hiroshi's wrist, exchanging it for the rest of the flashlights as he pulled them to his chest like a mass of teddy bears.

"Idiot, what monster?" When Takeshi didn't answer Hiroshi ground his teeth angrily. "Takeshi, what am I looking out for? A bug?"

"Monster, Hiroshi…" And Takeshi was silent.

_What is going on?_ Hiroshi thought incredulously. _This…just what is going on? Monster? No such thing!_

"Some kind of ghost hunter you are," he mumbled as he exited the room.

He exited quietly and left the door ajar for Takeshi before wandering off down the steps. That supposed library downstairs was the only room on his mind; the other doors in the vicinity didn't matter at the moment. They were probably all locked, anyway, and if they weren't, he'd figure out how to open them sooner or later.

He jogged back into the foyer, through the hallway, and stopped before the supposed library door, eyeing it warily. The keyhole was outlined with silver, just as the key was.

_This is it_, he thought excitedly as he slid the key in through the slot, _progress_.

And he turned the key.

Something inside the frame clicked and the door jolted. Hiroshi grinned; yes, this was progress.

Inside was what the key suggested: a library. There were towering bookcases standing against the far wall, lined in rows. There was a large oak desk pressed up against the left wall with disheveled pages scattered across the surface and floor. A few chairs were overturned and three were standing on the table.

_This house really isn't what it appears to be_, Hiroshi speculated. _What kind of home is this?_

He started past the first bookshelf and stopped when he heard something passing on the other side, like a gust of wind. Hiroshi jumped back from the desk and stood against the bookshelf, heart pumping in his chest. Whatever it was, it was stalking around the other side rather loudly.

Hiroshi's bangs swayed, proof there was some sort of wind in there. _Maybe a window?_

_This is ridiculous!_ He thought abruptly, whipping his head frantically. _Why am I so paranoid? Ever since I found that plate shard…The shelves were slanted. Takeshi must have been running around upstairs, Mika and Takuro are in some_ _closet as I sit here cowering like an idiot, Naoki is probably upstairs bored, Nikoru is running around somewhere, and Satō is just…I really hope Nikoru's okay._

_It's only been—_he checked his watch—_an hour and I'm losing it! Nikoru wasn't worried, neither was Satō when he was creeping around, Takeshi is already overactive, and I haven't heard Takuro or Mika screaming. Naoki would have come searching for me if something were wrong…honestly, I'm not his mother…But if none of the others are worried, I shouldn't be either. Absurd…_

He pushed himself off the case, his grip slipping on the books, and peered around the corner. There was no window. In fact, there was nothing there at all. The air was abruptly still.

"Just what is going on!" He exclaimed angrily. "Nikoru, if this is one of your pranks, I'm going to kill you!"

No reply.

"Takuro? Anyone?"

No reply.

"Hmmm…" Hiroshi cautiously walked back to the table and started examining the loose papers. There were news clips and torn pages from books, most of them involving poltergeists and demon exterminators. As he sorted through them, he pushed his glasses up uneasily. "Strange atmosphere…"

There was a stack of clippings that were hard to ignore with their colorful and vividly gruesome photos, so Hiroshi focused on them. The top paper had been ripped out of some sort of book. There was a picture of a dead body on the bottom of the page. Dark blue letters that looked to be typed told a story about a small town priest who was also a demon exterminator. He had exorcised many demons and ghosts from haunted homes.

The next page said the priest had gone missing and no one had seen him since his investigated of Fau Manor. The house in the picture was the manor Hiroshi was standing in at that very moment. Overwhelmed with a sudden wave of nausea, Hiroshi stepped away from the table to recapture his breath.

_What is this?_ He wondered, confused. _Why do I feel so sick?_

Recollecting himself, he stood before the table again before glancing over his shoulder. He had a terrible feeling he was being watched. So much paranoia recently…why was that, he wondered. He had to be kidding himself if he really thought something was wrong. It wasn't denial…or maybe it was?

Refusing to dwell on that aspect of himself, he switched to the next paper in the stack. There was a simple beige note with a phone number in the bottom left corner stapled to another newspaper clipping with the title, 'Exorcists.' Many of the numbers and addresses were church identities and circled with red pen.

He skipped a few grotesque papers of deaths and bloodied images of the victim's bodies and picked up a letter to a Catholic priest. The cursive was faded and splotched in some places; Hiroshi could only make out a few words.

_Terror, haunting, sharp, help, oni._

Oni.

Hiroshi tried not to let himself be affected by the cryptic words and moved onto the paper below it; another clipping from the priest agreeing to meet the Fau Manor family and investigate the home. The final clipping in this series said the priest had gone missing and the police were setting up an investigation against the family.

It also included a section on the back, indicating many visitors of the home had been disappearing over the years. The police finally had some sort of evidence against the blamed family: blood on an antique piano the family kept in the music room.

Hiroshi shook his head cynically. He glanced warily over his shoulder again and took a deep breath to steady his erratically pounding heart.

The next several clips were updates on the investigation; more people missing and nothing solved. They suspected the oldest son or the indifferent grandmother of the Fau family. They stated the old lady had gone insane; she had rambled to them about demons and ghosts in the home that had been terrorizing the family for years. Why didn't you leave, they asked. Because it's our home and the last bit of heritage we have left, the grandmother answered. My great-great-great grandmother had this house built from scratch and they unfairly burned her at the stake because some paranoid teenagers suspected she was a witch, of all things! the woman continued furiously. The clipping declared her hostile and unnerved.

Skipping several more papers, Hiroshi finally found one worth shuddering over: the oldest son had murdered half the staff, half the police force, his youngest siblings, and his father. Then, he burned the basement of Fau Manor and authorities found him skinned with a vise-like grip on a small, black book in one hand. The team that discovered him said they had watched in horror as he was dragged into a hole in the floor. No one had ever seen him again.

The last clip Hiroshi read was the final paper in the stack. It was the last update of the family, stating they had abandoned the home after the horrific events and the story concluded with a memorial for all the son, Alex Fau, had murdered.

"How unsettling…" Hiroshi whispered apprehensively, pushing the the paper aside to reveal another silver key. Hiroshi's breath caught in his throat. "Another key…What is with all these secrets?"

He picked it up gingerly and discovered yet another sticky note on the backside. He unfolded it.

_Fourth Floor Bedroom Key._

"Fourth floor," he murmured. "It must include the basement, so third floor…All the way up there? I'll most likely run into Mika and Takuro with this…" He squeezed his eyes shut. "I really don't want to think about that. Ugh."

Disgusted, Hiroshi scrunched his nose and started towards the library door when a purple blur against the back wall caught his attention. He stopped in mid-motion and felt his limbs grow numb. His brain stopped working and whirled around in his head, thumping in rhythm with his pulsing, accelerating heart. A loud rush, a white noise, filled his ears and he was positive his glasses were about to crack with the intensity of the rising tension.

There, still against the wall like a blotted statue with big, round, empty eye sockets, given the exception of two small red laser-like pupils floating around in each emptiness, was the large, purple mass of a monster. It gazed hungrily at Hiroshi, its watering mouth slightly opened. A dribble of saliva trickled down its jaw.

Hiroshi begged himself to move, but his legs wouldn't give. He felt as if he were glued to the floor. Horror pounded his heart. His stomach felt weighed by heavy stones and his feet by led. It took several seconds for it to sink in—what he was seeing—and several more to remember how to run.

The second some sense returned to him, he pivoted and sprinted like an Olympic to the door. The monster seethed and Hiroshi knew the chase was on.

Hiroshi bolted through the door and down the hallway to the foyer. Terrifyingly curious, he stole a quick glance over his shoulder and all but screamed when he saw the damn thing running calmly after him, as if bored with chasing him already, but Hiroshi could see the interest in its black, soulless eyes.

Hiroshi flew up the steps, almost not expecting it to follow him. But it was wishful thinking as he started up the next staircase and saw it running across the second floor after him. Hiroshi yelled and entered the third floor hallway. There were two rooms, one straight ahead and one off to the left. Hiroshi ignored the ache in his legs and practically levitated to the left door, arm extended with key in hand.

A low, breezy groan rumbled off the walls. Adrenaline exploded in Hiroshi's gut; it had to be right behind him. He had one shot to slide the key into the slot—no second chance.

From a foot away he aligned the key with the slot as best he could. He took a deep breath, knowing it would possibly be his last, and lunged.

Xxx


	7. Horror of the Piano

All right, more editing! I'm enjoying this, in case you couldn't tell.

Inspiration: **Moonlight Sonata** (totally gorgeous!), **My Creepy Pony **(a short a friend of mine read to me—I think it's found on Creepypasta), and **Lord of the Flies**. That movie itself is ten times freakier than this story! If you haven't read it, maybe you shouldn't, and if you have, then you know what I suffered reading the book and watching the movie. Amazing story, but horrifically terrible.

Horror of the Piano

Xxx

As if lead by the hand of God, the key slid perfectly into the slot and Hiroshi twisted as, literally, his life depended on it. He wouldn't acknowledge any relief until he was safe and secure behind a closed door.

A shriek-like creak echoed around the hallway as Hiroshi kicked the door open with the last bit of his stamina. The door collided with the wall. Hiroshi rushed in and whirled around to slam the door shut.

At the end of the hallway, the thing's eyes bore into Hiroshi's as it closed in, as if attempting to paralyze Hiroshi in fear. But the only emotion Hiroshi had room for was security, as he childishly believed if he closed this door he would be safe. It was all he could cling to, even if it were a fake sense of security. And slamming a door shut would only take a second.

And slam it shut Hiroshi did. He slammed it so hard the wall shook and some of the paint peeled. Then he sped over in between two plain beds and dropped to his knees right in between, shivering uncontrollably.

All was silent for a full minute before Hiroshi finally sat on his haunches and peeked over the top of one of the bed. The door was still shut and he saw no sign of the monster. He waited impatiently another few moments before finally lying on his back and resting his jellified legs with a tremendous sigh. He had eluded the purple monster.

"Was that the Ao Oni…?" He murmured, heart in his throat. "What am I saying? That's—that's impossible. There's no such thing. There can't be, it's not possible."

He couldn't digest what had happened. It wouldn't register in his mind. He just couldn't wrap it around that an actual monster was raging through the manor. What is humanly possible? No, it wasn't humanly. It was the-last-thing-from-humanly possible.

It was downright deranged. Was that even the right word?

Then another thought occurred: were the others safe? Where were Takuro, Mika, Naoki, Takeshi, and Nikoru? Takuro and Mika were probably in some dark closet but either way, whether they were or not, they were in danger. Naoki, wherever he was, was in danger. Takeshi was hiding in the closet for a definite reason, not because of a mouse or a bug like he'd thought. That blonde twit had even tried to tell him and he had thought nothing of it! How stupid he was!

He could have cared less about Satō's safety. He might have been better off dead. Then he thought of Nikoru

Why had he left her? Was he stupid! He had left her alone to defend for herself!

He rolled around the image of that thing in his mind, trying to calm himself. He hadn't the slightest idea of how to handle this situation. His head was mushed with thoughts and mist, wanting to rescue the others, but a small voice contradicted him: _It's all a dream, HiroshiPEN. You just need a pinch and a smack and you'll be fine._

Oh, then if that's the case.

He pulled down his sleeve and pinched the side of his wrist as hard as he could, squeezing his eyes shut. Then, he slapped himself four times on the right cheek and reopened his eyes. Nothing had changed. Nothing at all.

Abruptly his eyes started to sting and he wiped them with the back of his hand, forcing himself to hold it together. _Now's not the time to lose it on yourself_, _Hiroshi,_ he thought defiantly. _Don't give up hope. You can beat this. This isn't the end. You'll find a way. Think!_

He attempted to push himself back onto his feet put his hand slipped away from him, as if falling right through the ground. Hiroshi caught himself and curiously checked under the bed for what had swallowed his hand. There was a wide hole in the ground that opened to the floor below. It was dimly lit with a buzzing light in the left far corner.

Hiroshi stood and began pushing the head, trying to uncover the hole. He dug his toes into the planks with the hefty weight. Finally, he had it pressed against the wall and he sighed heavily in relief. What a weight that had been!

Next he gathered blankets from the cots. He couldn't just jump through the hole; he would break his legs. He tied the ends of each blanket until the last one had been fastened. After tying one of the ends to one of the bed frames, Hiroshi squatted down, pushed his glasses up and slowly dangled his legs through the hole. He took a deep breath and scooted to the edge. He dared not leave through the door he had entered; there was no turning back. However, it wasn't wise to just fall through without knowing what exactly was inside, but what other choice did he have?

"Here goes nothing," he murmured a little sardonically, lingering on every syllable. He wasn't sure why he hesitated; maybe it was because he was nervous of dropping at least ten feet, or maybe he thought or knew he was forcing himself into acting brave for his own sake or for the others' sake. But hesitation would get him nowhere, so he clenched his jaw, gripped the makeshift rope, and nodded sharply. "Yes, here goes nothing."

He slid through the hole with his fingers tight on the rope. But the fall was faster than he had thought it would be and he yelled in trepidation as his stomach flew into his throat. Before he could scold himself for doing something so stupid, when all he had to do was walk out that door, he found himself dangling a few inches above the ground. He bounced back up with the rope once and when it lingered by the ground instead of flying back up, Hiroshi then released it. It wasn't difficult to land and it definitely wasn't painful.

Hiroshi cleared his throat, embarrassed. That hadn't been as bad as he thought it was going to be.

No one had seen that, right?

Turning, his vision revealed an old, ebony grand piano, lid closed and secured with what looked to be a rust caked nail.

As he stepped closer he noticed a pool of blood splattered on some of the keys. Upon further inspection it appeared to be old and crusted.

"Revolting," Hiroshi mumbled with irritation; someone had mucked up a beautiful piano with blood and a nail. And there was no way he would willingly dry it off with his own sleeve or scarf. He had more pride and dignity than that. He wiped a black glove over one of the keys above the mess and snorted in disgust. "What can I wipe this off with…?"

He immediately went for the cabinets in the back of the room. There was nothing useful inside, but he could see something metallic behind one of the cupboards. Like he did with the bed, Hiroshi pushed the cabinet off to the side and revealed some sort of safe. There were four spaces for digits and a small, gray button.

Hiroshi tried to recollect some sort of number he could put there, but nothing came to mind. He silently cursed himself.

He thoroughly investigated the rest of the room but found nothing of use. He debated on searching other rooms for a cloth or something and was seriously starting to consider it after he accidentally walked through a giant spider web in one of the corners.

"Dammit!" He exclaimed furiously, pulsing with pent up nerves. He waved his arms around and wiped his face with his sleeve until the last of the web was gone. "Get off of me! Dammit…"

That was it, that was it. He was going to leave the room and look elsewhere. He stomped to the door and exited rather loudly. But first, before finding a cloth, he wanted to find everyone and make sure they were safe.

Xxx

Mika sobbed silently in a corner, pressing herself closely against the wall until there was no space between them. Her heart was still pumping from her encounter and that had been about an hour ago. She still couldn't shake the shudders raging her body as she comforted herself, all alone in the dark room.

It boggled her mind how everything had been fine just an hour ago and how quickly the house's charming façade had dissipated. Takuro had been expressing how much he loved her just forty minutes ago, and now he was gone.

She sobbed for Takuro, who had used himself as a decoy when that thing had crashed through the closet. She sobbed for the terror she'd felt as she scurried under the bed. She didn't know where he was. She couldn't muster enough courage to leave the room.

And what could come from cowering? She also cried out of guilt: she was hiding in a room when she could be helping the others escape. She was ignoring their safety for her own. She felt she was denying their friendship and it made her queasy.

Why had they ever stepped foot in the house? Why had they ever thought it would be a good idea—fun? Why, out of all the haunted houses in the town, did they have to choose _this one_? They had entered hell itself.

Takeshi was right. Monsters did exist.

The Ao Oni wasn't myth—it was fact.

Xxx

"And that's the final line," Naoki murmured appreciatively as he finished the _Lock and Key_, something that would keep Takuro away until he decided to release him.

He smirked, pleased with how well things were going. He'd been waiting for this for so long. From his space, he could hear every step, every scream, every sob his unfortunate pawns made, and it filled his heart with such power and triumph. He couldn't wait for the finale.

As he prepared for the next spell, an image of Hiroshi by the piano flashed in his mind, and he grinned maniacally.

_Riddles are fun, aren't they, Hiroshi?_ Naoki thought fixedly. _Let's have a little more fun, shall we? I won't_ _hurt you…_His grin widened. _But that can't stop us from having some enjoyable diversion, am I right?_

_Now, let's see; who should be our next victim? Ah, how about fire verses fire? Satō will be fun to—_

Another image flashed—Takeshi sliding out of the closet and mumbling, "What happened? Who yelled?"

"Won't _he_ be fun to cadoodle," Naoki chuckled caustically, momentarily forgetting Satō. His dark eyes skimmed the black book's yellowed pages for something more exciting. "I love this game."


	8. Horror Back Stage

Horror Back Stage Xxx

Nikoru fumed and cleared another corner, eyes peeled for that jerk Satō. She had faked indifference in front of Hiroshi, but now, it was on.

It was ON.

Now, Nikoru didn't think of herself this way and neither did many other people, but Nikoru was very proud when it came to defending. She truly believed she could kick anyone's ass and win.

It wouldn't usually be much of a problem, but in this case she was, unfortunately, fooling herself. She was positive she could wrap this up in a couple minutes: find Satō, avenge Hiroshi with ass kicking, and reward herself with another Twix.

For the last several minutes Nikoru had been giving herself pep talk after pep talk, reciting her plan until she had it memorized backwards, sideways and forwards. She'd find that jerk and poke him in the eye with her glowstick. Then, while he was stumbling around confused, she'd ram her fist in his head and kick him in the nuts.

He'd never mess with Hiroshi again!

Suddenly, something flashed behind a door up ahead of her. It looked like a shadow.

Grinding her teeth, Nikoru crept up to it. It had to be Satō.

"You're toast now, buddy," she murmured ferociously, stretching an arm forward and grabbed the knob. As she twisted it she shook off sudden shivers. Realizing it was locked, she sniffed furiously and shouted, "Satō! You schmuck, where are you?"

She received no answer and that irritated her. Sniffing bitterly, she turned to investigate the rest of the hallway. She soon came to a matted room with closets on the back wall and Satō was standing before one.

"You schmuck!" Nikoru shouted. Satō turned, surprised. "Why didn't you answer me? You asshole, I saw what you did to Hiroshi!"

Satō blinked in confusion. "Wh-what? What did I do to Hiro-"

"Don't give me bullshit!" Nikoru stormed before him. "You punched him! What'd he ever do to you?"

"I didn't do anything!" Satō exclaimed defensively, raising his brows. "I promise, I didn't do anything! I don't know what you're talking about!"

Nikoru, taken aback, stared at him, switching fury for bewilderment. Did Hiroshi actually lie? He wouldn't have! "Well, Hiroshi wouldn't lie. I know him too well! He wouldn't lie that you punched him!"

Satō rose his palms. "I don't know what you're talking about! Really, Nikoru, enlighten me!"

"You've been hurting people, you asswipe!" Nikoru exclaimed, pointing a finger in his face. "You've been stealing people's money and you control your own gang! Hiroshi caught you and you hit him!"

"I did not!" Satō cried and he rubbed his face. "I did not. I don't know what stunt he's pulling, but I didn't do anything."

Nikoru suddenly felt horrible. She guiltily took a step back, out of his face, and took a deep, calming breath. "You…you don't know anything about that?"

Did Hiroshi actually lie?

Satō nodded angrily. "No, I don't. We were talking about the Harvard Roll and he suddenly snapped and tried to hit me. I hit him in self-defense."

Suspicion flickered in Nikoru's eyes. "So you did hit him."

"Nikoru, he tried to knock me out," Satō ground out. "I did nothing wrong, he did."

Now, Nikoru wasn't the brightest person and she was very, very dense. But even she could hear deception seething from his tone, clear as day. He was a bad actor.

Nikoru narrowed her eyes and extended a hand. "Sorry, man. I guess _Hiroshi lied_."

Satō gave her an estranged look but took her hand reluctantly. "Yes, Nikoru, he did." They awkwardly shook and Nikoru sniffed airily. He smiled and caressed her face. "And I have something I need to discuss with you, love…" Nikoru bristled; 'love?' What? "In a back room."

Oh God.

Before she could stop herself, Nikoru kneed him in the nuts. Satō grabbed his balls, gaped, trying to scream though nothing escaped, and slunk to the ground in excruciating pain.

Nikoru towered furiously over him and growled, "Dude, you are such a schmuck. You _did_ hit Hiroshi and now you're trying to hit on me. You're a wacko."

Satō glared up at her and fumed squeakily, "Well, sweetheart, that's how the damn cookie crumbles." He fell on his side and shivered. "You are such a damn bitch. Only thing nice on you is your ass, hon. You have a heart murmur, that's a turn off. You're not pretty, or cute, or sweet, just a damn nice piece of ass."

Nikoru sniffed, repulsed.

"And why the hell do you sniff all the damn time, bitch?" Satō hissed. "Did I hurt your useless feelings?"

"No," she lied, pretending to be strong. "I'm just surprised, that's all. I didn't realize how much of a dumbass you are. I can't believe I felt guilty just a second ago. I never realized how much of a creep you are."

"You never realize anything," Satō laughed, a dark glint in his gray-blue eyes. "Bitch, you're fucking dense. You don't even realize how Hiroshi is pushing you away."

Nikoru told herself not to cave in, but it didn't stop her heart from skipping a few beats. She nervously sniffed and murmured, "What the hell you talking about?"

Satō smirked. "You know what I'm talking about. Naoki's in fashion now. Hiroshi doesn't give two fucks about you, he has Naoki to back him up." Nikoru's heart sank in dread. "Even _I've_ noticed. You can't be totally stupid, Niky. You're in love with him and you know he's replacing you."

Nikoru's mind was engulfed in a haze, and she felt as if she were slowly fading. So she hadn't been the only one who had noticed. Hiroshi really was pushing her away. But what about the hair? Had it meant anything to him when he found her? He went straight to her, no one else. Or…maybe not _straight_ to her.

"Face it, Nikoru," Satō said. "You're just a piece of ass."

Suddenly, Naoki didn't matter anymore. Suddenly, Nikoru didn't want to murder Naoki. Suddenly, a dark veil covered her vision and she found her movements uncontrollable. Suddenly, she felt like a puppet.

She smiled with white fury and started to laugh. Satō watched her curiously as she clenched her hands into fists. "You're going to regret saying all of that."

Satō gaped but before he could understand what he'd said, a loud sigh rumbled throughout the hall and a dark mist started to twist like live shadows around them. Nikoru abruptly stumbled back over her feet and blinked, dazed.

Something emerged from one of the back closets, startling Nikoru. Satō noticed the horror in her expression and he pushed himself onto his knees. He went to glance over his shoulder but he found once he had that thing in his sight he couldn't look away.

It was large, and purple. His first thought was it was a figment of his imagination, a mirage, it had to have been. But he quickly realized it was more than that.

It was alive.

Xxx

Mika stared at the door over a bed nervously. She had finally stopped crying and now drowsiness belittled her senses. She thought about getting up and running out, but she was too terrified.

Takuro was still fresh on her mind. All she could see was his face and she wanted to run to him, wherever he was. She weakly stood and quietly crept to the door.

Light flooded through the cracks around it. Relief flooded her; there was still some light out. She pretended to grab a patch and reached for the knob.

Locked.

Mika's eyes stung, without the option to cry but to swell. "Why?" She whispered. "Takuro…where are you? Why haven't you come back?"

She had almost expected an answer. But there was nothing. When she turned, she expected to see him standing behind her, arms open. But there was nothing.

A strangled sob escaped her lips and she dragged herself back to her corner, defeated.

She was helpless. She was useless.

"Oh, Takuro, why did you leave me here?" She sobbed without power to cry. She had no will. If she were to die now she would be happy.

As long as she could be with Takuro, she would be happy.

Xxx

Naoki hummed a fifties tune as he explored a dusty room in the basement. Dust bunnies and mold particles floated obnoxiously around him but, as always, he was indifferent and didn't seem to notice. They didn't matter as much as the pawns of his game did.

He kissed his book and opened it, scanning the pages for something useful. After a moment he stopped and chuckled darkly.

"Ah, yes. This _will_ be a blast," he whispered. "Let's see, Mika is crying, Takeshi is hiding like the coward he is, Takuro is locked away…" Naoki giggled and ran his finger over the title of a spell: **Possession**. "Who's next?"

Xxx

Uh-oh, Naoki's got a book! That bastard!

Anyway, inspiration here is from **PewDie** (of course), **HaxorNova** (from his new Mario Kart thing), **Tobuscus** (for his impression of eccentric Zelda), and **ChimeySweep** (from his Amnesia best moments). This sort of credit also goes to the actual **Ao Oni** game and **people who annoy us**.

Like Beiber.

***Anyway, if you liked please review and fav, it would really help! And give me you opinion, **do you thing Nikoru is an extreme Mary-Sue**? I don't want her to be, no one wants an OC to be, but I feel like she is at times. **She is my first girl OC**. I don't care what anyone's opinion on Satō is because he's just a **weirdo** in the first place, but I'd love feedback for Nikoru, that would be helpful.

And if you write a review, could you also explain what you like more in the story or if you have a complaint, I'd love feedback on what it is and how I can fix it.

Remember, this is my first series!

Thanks, stay awesome, guys!

-Cappy


	9. Horror of Realization

**Horror of Realization** Xxx

Meanwhile, upstairs, Hiroshi was rushing about the second floor, searching for anything of use. Ignoring some new poorly drawn map on the wall he hurried to the room Takeshi had been in.

"Takeshi!" He exclaimed, not noticing the door had been closed when he had made sure to leave it open earlier, "Takeshi, you were ri-"

The closet doors were wide open and the chair and table were overturned. Hiroshi's heart leapt into his mouth again; Takeshi was gone.

"Where is everyone?" Hiroshi whispered on the verge of hysterics. But hysterical or not, he had to somehow keep it together. So what if Takeshi wasn't here, he'd find him soon and save him.

Then, as if a brick wall had hit him, he suddenly realized he cared for that blonde twat. They didn't even know each other too well, but Hiroshi felt a sudden connection between them. It had to be the danger they were facing, it was a terror Hiroshi couldn't defeat alone and he felt almost as if Takeshi felt the same way.

Before he turned to leave and rescue the others, he noticed a small, white cloth unfolded across the floor. _Whose is that_? Hiroshi wondered as he bent down to pick it up. There was a small red insignia on the underside and a pattern of swirls on one hem_. Strange. Is this Takeshi's?_

Feeling uneasy again, Hiroshi stood and bolted to the door. He could feel something was coming. Maybe not at that moment, but soon.

He went ahead and checked the door to the right as well, only to discover it was still locked. Though he was sure he could hear faint moaning from behind it, he waved it off and scurried downstairs to find an escape everyone could access.

His first idea was the front door. He vacantly noted the equipment was still missing and tired to turn the door's knob.

It was locked.

Locked!

Hiroshi took a few drunken steps back, shocked. _It can't be! _His mind screamed and he tried again for a full minute until his mind finally realized that, indeed, it was locked.

"Then a window!" Hiroshi exclaimed. He checked the nearest one and almost screamed when he realized they were all bricked. "What is this? I-this-what's going on!"

_There must be some exit somewhere!_ He rationed comfortingly, fixing his glasses. His hands trembled with the struggle to keep himself civil, to keep himself from banging his head on the wall or screaming. _There must be a secret door, maybe…oh, I don't know! It could be anywhere…_

He stood there for a moment, still trying to grasp the full concept of this horrifying situation. Once again, he had no idea how to deal with the situation. But there had to be some way!

Just as he was about to throw himself against the bricks, a deafening, blood-curdling scream rang throughout the foyer. Hiroshi jumped in surprise and rushed to save whomever it was.

In all his wildest dreams, he would have never expected Satō to run out into the foyer like he did, arms flailing and jaw dragging on the floor, and screaming like a child playing Amnesia for their first time. Hiroshi watched, stunned, as Nikoru scrambled out of the staircase's side way just behind, chest bouncing and hair sticking up every which way.

Both of them looked ready to jump out a window. Too bad they'd only get two inches.

"Nikoru!" Hiroshi exclaimed, running to her side as she hunched over and braced her palms on her sore knees. Satō screamed again and bolted to the door, only to find it locked like Hiroshi had. "Are you all right? What happened!"

Nikoru didn't look up or say much, as she was panting like an

Olympic track star. She held up her index finger. Hiroshi obliged and ran a gloved hand over her shoulder comfortingly.

"WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT!" Satō screeched as he pried at the door. "WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON!" He instantly turned to Hiroshi with wide eyes and yelled, "Hiroshi, what the fuck have you done?"

"Me?" Hiroshi shouted, incredulous. "What do you mean _me_! I didn't do a thing!"

"Oh, _sure_ you didn't!" Satō cackled and jumped around in front of the door like a monkey. "YOU DIDN'T! OKAY! WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT DAMN PURPLE THING, EXPLAIN THAT, MIGHTY LORD OF HOMOS!"

"Satō, shut up!" Nikoru exclaimed angrily, straightening and checking over her shoulder that the coast was clear. "Dude, he doesn't know! He wasn't even fucking there!"

Hiroshi nodded; pleased Nikoru was standing against that bastard now.

Satō narrowed his eyes. "Son of a bitch, Hiroshi locked the door. You bastard, you just want me to fucking rot, don't you?"

Hiroshi scowled in irritation. "Why the hell would I do that, you idiot? And I know what you saw, I saw it as well."

Nikoru turned to him, shocked. "Y-you did? Was it fucking Barney?"

Hiroshi nodded seriously. "Yes, it was large and purple. It honestly looked like an overgrown toddler to me."

Nikoru's mouth formed an 'o' and she nodded. "Oh, hell yeah, you saw it!"

"A toddler!" Satō giggled hysterically. He raced to a window down the opposite hallway of Hiroshi. "A _toddler_! How original, asswipe! Admit it, _you're_ behind this!"

Hiroshi sighed impatiently. "No, idiot, why would I do something like this? What would be the point? And you can't escape through the windows, they've been bricked."

Nikoru's jaw dropped. "Dude, no. No, no, no, bricked?" She ran over to one of the alleged windows and gasped, "What! Oh, hell no! Hell no!" She skidded beside Hiroshi with her large brown eyes wider than he'd ever seen them. "BRICKED! Hiroshi, dude, how?"

"I-I don't know!" Hiroshi cried.

"Ah-ha!" Satō pointed accusingly at him. "You stuttered! You lied!"

"No, I did not!" Hiroshi exclaimed, now annoyed. "You're not making this any better, you're making the whole thing worse! Just shut up and let's search for the others and possibly another escape-"

"_Possibly_?" Nikoru repeated anxiously. "You mean we could _die_ in this hell hole?"

"Did you see that monster?" Hiroshi countered, not meaning to be rude but factual. "Anything is possible."

"But if we don't…" Nikoru swallowed; it looked painful. Then, she suddenly looked Hiroshi full in the eyes with a defiant glimmer in her eyes, determination on her tight lips, and seriousness seeping from her expression. "Hiroshi, I know this sounds utterly cliché and stupid, but if we can't find another way out, could we possibly wait it out until morning? You never see a demon during the day, you know. I'm sure there's sunlight somewhere around here, and, or, we could either hide or wait there or we could somehow bulldoze a window. If we find another escape, thank God, but if not, we could search for any small opening. It's the sort of thing you see in the movies, and I don't know if they're reliable or whatever, but we could try."

Satō looked stunned across the foyer, probably incredulous that he had finally witnessed one of Nikoru's finer moments in life.

Hiroshi nodded tactfully. "Yes, if there's a will, there's a way. That's what mother used to say. Anyway, I agree with you. Demons lurk in shadow, in darker places. So if we find some sort of sunlight we may be all right."

Nikoru smiled on the inside, appreciative for Hiroshi's compliment: he agreed with her. He never agreed with anyone! And that jerk Satō had witnessed it all.

Hiroshi whirled and glared at Satō. "By the way, we have unfinished business to attend to." Satō ground his teeth and was about to retort when Hiroshi cut him off, "But it will be dealt with at a later time. Right now, you two search for something useful. Maybe we can use weapons against them."

Nikoru saluted him. "Heil-I mean, yes, Cap'n!"

Satō fumed but sighed in defeat.

"By the way," Hiroshi said abruptly, "have either of you seen Takeshi, Mika, Naoki or Takuro?"

Nikoru and Satō were silent. He huffed and shook his head; she sniffed and shrugged. Hiroshi's gut twisted painfully. _Where were the others?_ "Are you sure?"

"Mika and Takuro went upstairs," Nikoru said, trying to be helpful. "Takeshi was with-"

"Not anymore," Satō stated gruffly and a little too abruptly.

Hiroshi frowned at him. Did he actually know something? "I saw Takeshi upstairs." Both stared at him, waiting to hear more. "Well, he was cowering in a closet with flashlights. That is, until I was chased by one of those monsters and escaped into a music room. I went back to look for him, but he was gone." Hiroshi took the kerchief from his pocket. "I assume this is his as it was left where he had been hiding in the closet."

Nikoru examined it from his hands and paled. "Dude, that's not Takeshi's. That's Naoki's."

Hiroshi's brows furrowed. "Naoki's? Why would it be in there?"

Nikoru shrugged. "Dunno. But I saw him with it when we got here, right before he went upstairs. He made it in Home Ec. or whatever, it has the same pattern thing."

Out of curiosity, Hiroshi asked, "Since when do you care what Naoki's possessions are, Nikoru?"

She sniffed in what he presumed was embarrassment and shrugged. "I don't know, I just notice stuff."

Hiroshi wasn't so sure about that. She was hiding something.

"Well, fuck that homo," Satō grunted. "He's an asshole, pun intended."

Nikoru opened her mouth to say something and closed it quickly. Hiroshi blinked at her. She would usually defend people who were hated on but this time she kept her mouth clamped shut.

_It…must be because of Naoki?_

Hiroshi wondered about that. He had noticed some tension between the two, but he'd never actually thought about it until now. He never truly noticed it until he realized the reason Nikoru wasn't speaking up was because Satō had insulted _Naoki_.

"Nikoru, is there something you want to talk about…?" Hiroshi asked hesitantly. Nikoru sniffed and clicked her tongue. "About…about Naoki?"

She said nothing.

"Yeah," Satō quirked up, "I was wondering about that, too. What's up with you and Emo Boy? Gotta crush on him?" He purposely stared at Hiroshi as he continued, "Or is it coz of Hiroshi?" Nikoru cringed. "Relationship wise?"

"Bastard, shut up," Nikoru hissed angrily. Hiroshi goggled at her. He wasn't sure whether he was marveling about how she had called his nemesis a bastard or if he was shocked at how quickly her mood had changed. "No one gives a fuck about him…"

"Nikoru…" Hiroshi trailed off, not knowing what to say.

She hates Naoki, because he wants to set us up? He thought awkwardly. _Is Satō…No, impossible_.

Satō cracked his knuckles. "Well, might as well start looking around, I wanna get out of here as soon as I fucking can."

_How interesting it is to see his façade deteriorating so quickly after being exposed,_ Hiroshi thought slyly. "Yes, let's."

Xxx

Takuro awoke, unsure what he was seeing. It seemed dark but there were blue splotches all over his vision, like stars. He sat up and groaned while his aching joints protested. Where was he? His guess was as good as anyone's.

But he knew one thing for sure: it was very cold. A sharp, freezing sting hit his palm and he inhaled sharply as he brought the pulsing hand in front of his eyes to examine it. There was no mark, no scratch, nothing.

He suddenly remembered Mika and jumped to his feet. He ran in circles trying to find a way out, but there was nothing. Nothing but black. He opened his mouth to scream or yell, but nothing came out. Only air where the words were absent. He wracked his memory to recall what had happen but found his memory was blank.

What was going on?

Xxx

This chapter was so easy to write! I guess it's because I love imagining the tension between Hiroshi and Satō because one spews such a sharp, uptight retort and the other is hateful and sarcastic. I like the contrast, and that's why I made dastardly Satō the way he is! XD

By the way, **I have NOTHING against homosexuals, nothing at all. I have a couple homosexual friends myself. I just thought the things Satō said about Naoki being bi would be something he'd say and not regret because he is a bastard.** And why didn't Nikoru speak up? You'll learn later! Should be obvious, though! And I'm not pronazi, seriously. Just thought that 'heil' thing would add some swag. Maybe that's not the right word…

And then there's the inspiration, which goes to **Russica** for being awesome, PewDiePie for playing Ao Oni where I first heard of the game in the first place (which was a LONG time ago XD), **Switzerland** (my favorite Hetalian!), and to **Shaun of the Dead,** which I watch religiously every night. You probably noticed that where I added in 'twat.' :D Liz is so badass.

Anyway, thanks for reading! It would really helped if you liked it and reviewed, and if you did, you're awesome! Also check out my Hetalia series, **Dear Bastard**, which are Lovino Vargas' (Romano's) angry letters to the world!

I'll be back to edit later!

Stay awesome, guys! –Cappy


	10. Horror in Nowhere

**Horror in Nowhere**

Xxx

Takeshi woke with a start, not sure where he was or what he was seeing. It was dark but there were yellow spots in the shadows. He sat up, heart pumping, and scooted backward until his back collided with a wall. Takeshi jumped and turned, vision revealing a bloodied brick stone wall.

He dared not believe it at first. There could be no way the walls were stained with blood. It had to be an illusion, a nightmare, anything!

But the smell was definite and it stung his nose like pepper. It was revolting. Takeshi wanted curl up in a ball and die. He would have rather blown his eardrums up with Justin Beiber than stay there.

He covered his eyes and peeked through his fingers, terrified. "What-where am I!" He screamed shrilly. "Someone! Help me! Mika!"

He received no answer, only silence. Trying his best to keep form crying he moved away from the bloody wall in disgust and crouched closely against the wall as he searched for an exit, arms folded in close to his chest defensively. The thought of barely skimming one of the walls horrified him, so he kept himself boxed and folded together, legs close to the ground.

His breath was erratic and his heart pounded obnoxiously and painfully in his head. His head pulsed as he circled the room once, twice, thrice. There was no door, no window, nothing. He finally broke down, banging his knees against the floor and sobbing.

He was trapped in a room of blood, in a secluded area. He was nowhere. What would he do? Would he die there…?

Suddenly a small hole opened up in the floor. Flashes of lavender and yellow light flooded through, dancing across his face like a disco ball. It checkered the walls and hid the blood, making it seem as if he were in a disco club.

Takeshi wiped his eyes hesitantly with the back of his hand, fearing to believe it. Could it really be an escape? Hope swelled in his heart as the thought of escape wrapped itself around his mind. It was almost too incredibly wonderful to be true.

Takeshi stood quickly and ran to the hole, not knowing where it would lead or what could be inside. But he didn't care. Anywhere was better than there in that room. So, without giving himself time for second thoughts, Takeshi jumped through.

Xxx

Hiroshi crept carefully in the back hallway after parting ways with Satō and Nikoru. Satō wouldn't budge from the front door and Nikoru had rushed up to the third floor with another glowstick.

After searching for anything useful and winding up with nothing with Satō screaming at him to 'get lost,' Hiroshi had proceeded to the side isle and stormed through the door.

There was a glass door across the way. Hiroshi walked to it and tried the knob, but, of course, it was locked.

_What is with all of these locked doors?_ He wondered to himself, rather irritated. _Did they have to lock every door before departing? What ridiculous people!_

Dismissing a cold chill that swept his body, he walked off down the hallway. There were ominous, elegant, circular mirrors mounted on the walls spaced within four feet of each other. Hiroshi suddenly found himself wishing he had Takuro with him at that moment. Takuro would be the kind of person to joke about trivial things Hiroshi never cared about. But at the same time, he'd make Hiroshi feel much better with his rubbish pranks, like popping out from a nook in the wall where Hiroshi could clearly see him, or yelling, 'Hiroshi, look over there! Haha, made you look!'

Hiroshi desperately wished Takuro could be there to take the edge off of his anticipation. He really didn't want to know what was at the end of this hallway, and the more the walked, the more the lights were beginning to dim.

_This isn't good_, Hiroshi thought fearfully. He paused for a moment, mustering up courage. _Come on, Hiroshi! HiroshiPEN! Think of Takuro! Of Mika, and Naoki, and Takeshi! You must do this_ for them_! _

After taking a deep, deep breath and letting it out slowly, Hiroshi continued on his toes. Another couple seconds passed and suddenly, the lights flickered off. Hiroshi was stunned for a moment, unable to move.

_No, no, _no_!_ He almost screamed._ No, this can't be happening! Flashlight Hiroshi, the flashlight!_

He swiftly moved to grab the yellow flashlight from his pocket when the light abruptly flickered back on. Silence as thick as cement made Hiroshi's ears ring and he felt as if his heart were bouncing around inside his head. It was far too silent; not even the lights were humming. Hiroshi expected to hear something like a growl or grunt, but there was nothing.

_That sneak is lying in wait_, Hiroshi thought numbly. He continued with hesitation_. Keep your eyes peeled, HiroshiPEN._

As he walked he balanced himself out so that his footsteps were as quiet as he could make them. But no matter how hard he tried there was always a faint _click_ echoing in the silence. However, Hiroshi was so focused he didn't hear anything. He kept his mind blank and vacant before he had a chance to freak out again.

Soon he came to a room connected off the hallway. It was matted, with closets lined on the back wall. Hiroshi hesitated; did he really want to proceed? It could mean the end of him if something went wrong and he had bad feelings towards those closets. It was like being stalked by the Boogie Man.

Hiroshi forced himself to move and he placed a foot on the mat. Nothing happened. Cautiously, he took two more steps across the mat. Still nothing occurred. Exceedingly cautious, Hiroshi stepped across the floor towards the back closets. Tension was growing in the air and it expanded until it overheated Hiroshi. He felt a bead of sweat slip down his cheek.

And then he was freezing. The contrast gave him a sudden headache.

But what was even more sudden was an abrupt warping in the closet doors. They bulged forward, as if reaching for Hiroshi. He took a step back, preparing for what was coming. And not a second later, the oni busted through one of the closets, surrounded by a light, dusting mist. Hiroshi yelled something incoherently and pivoted like he had in the library. He sped down the hallway back to the door, the oni right behind him.

Hiroshi couldn't point an exact finger on it, but he felt something was different this time. He glimpsed a reflection of the oni in one of the mirrors and cringed; it was drooling a river. Gross!

Maybe that was it; it seemed hungrier then before.

Avoiding the mirrors, Hiroshi raced past the first locked door and nearly collided with the exit door. As he pulled it open, he saw just a glance of the monster hurtling towards him, its red pupils bulging, over his shoulder. His heart nearly stopped as he thought what could happen to him if he didn't open the door quickly enough. Adrenaline pumped his heart almost painfully, giving him a speed boost. Just as the oni was in touching distance, Hiroshi had the door opened and fled through, slamming it in the monster's face before speeding into the foyer. It was deserted; Satō was gone. Hiroshi, thinking he had lost the oni, took a second to glance down both hallways warily. But Satō was nowhere, and for some odd reason that troubled Hiroshi.

His heart leapt into his mouth; what if there were more than one oni? What if another oni had captured him?

The floor rumbled abruptly below his feet. Shocked, Hiroshi glanced over his shoulder again and shuddered; it was right behind him. _It goes through doors?_ Terrified, Hiroshi flew up the stairs, whirling up a plan as fast as he was running.

Takeshi hiding in the closet came to his mind instantly. The closet! The oni could possibly be unintelligent enough to skip the closet and leave if he didn't find Hiroshi out in the open. He didn't have much time to decide if that was what he wanted to do or not; the steps shook with the oni's eagerness and it seethed and hissed demonically. Hiroshi couldn't even begin to decipher what the sounds resembled.

Deciding it was probably his only hope, Hiroshi kicked off the last step and headed for the room Takeshi had occupied. He was relieved to find the door still wide open from the last time he had searched inside and entered. He hurriedly slammed the door. The closet doors were ajar. Hiroshi jumped inside, quietly closing the doors behind him. His heart stopped when the oni crept silently into the room, its mouth wide open (Hiroshi counted more than thirty fangs in there), and its devilish pupils searching.

Hiroshi had to clamp a hand over his mouth to keep from shouting. It was as if a coughing fit had overcome him, trying its best to force a cough from his tight lips. He looked away, trembling and overheating in his winter coat. He felt as though his scarf was constricting him, joining the coughing fit's side.

_Traitor!_

The oni scanned the room and barged around for a while. It growled and grunted sharply, like one of those creatures from _Cry of Fear_. Hiroshi was beginning to lose hope when he finally peeked back through and noticed the oni had disappeared. But was it really gone? He waited several more seconds until the oni walked out from the closet. Hiroshi almost exploded; had it just attempted to set him up? Was it just him or what that thing suddenly a little more intelligent from before? The oni scanned the room one last time and finally exited, to Hiroshi's relief.

He slowly climbed out from the closet and treaded carefully across the floor, testing the boards for a _creak_ that could give him away. Peering out from behind the bedroom door, he concluded the oni was indeed gone and started back to the foyer hesitantly.

_Keep going, Hiroshi_, he told himself. _Don't give up yet! You can do this!_

The foyer was deserted. The hallways were silent, as well. Hiroshi made his way to the right corridor but paused before the side way. He gazed warily at the door for a while.

_I don't feel like trying that again_, he thought uneasily. _Maybe later I'll try again._

The bathroom seemed like a reliable place to find something useful, so Hiroshi walked there first. Inside, Hiroshi was repulsed to find the bathroom painted pink. What idiot paints their bathroom _pink_?

"Hippies…" Hiroshi seethed as he cringed in disgust.

He quickly checked the sink, then the cabinets below. Finding nothing, he moved on to the washer and dryer. There was nothing inside. He walked towards the tub. A cracked mirror was perched on the wall and Hiroshi couldn't help but notice his reflection.

His hair was disheveled; his coat was torn in several places though he couldn't recall how. His glasses were lopsided; he fixed them. The cream scarf his mother had bought him three years ago was stained to the point it looked like a duster and that bothered him deeply. He tried to brush off some of the dust and dirt but was further frustrated when the stains spread wherever his fingers moved.

He moved back to the sink to wet the scarf and try to clean it from there, but it was bone dry. Hiroshi on gave up for the time being, deciding he'd find a way to save his scarf later, and moved back in front of the mirror angrily.

Through the reflection, Hiroshi suddenly noticed the bathtub was filled with black ooze. Repulsed, Hiroshi moved away and nearly tripped over a plunger. An idea hit him like a car; he picked up the plunger and turned it upside down.

"Maybe, if I use it like this…" He murmured to himself as he moved the plunger around, searching for the plug. It finally hit something and Hiroshi smiled. "Yes, there."

He rose the hilt up slightly and pounded back down. The plug was released and the black ooze was drained away. Hiroshi triumphantly stepped back and hurled the disgusting plunger in the trashcan under the mirror's counter.

"And look at that," he said, marveling his attire, "Not a speck on me. Hiroshi, you are a _genius_!"

When the last of the ooze had washed away, Hiroshi discovered a screwdriver covered in black at the bottom of the tub. It meant progress, but Hiroshi was also disgusted at the thought of picking up a screwdriver dripping with unidentified ooze and placing it in his pocket.

What a priss, right?

Hiroshi scanned the room for something to dry it with and immediately noticed a roll of toilet paper by the tub's side. He bent down to pick it up and unrolled a foot or two. With the toilet paper wrapped around his hand, Hiroshi hesitantly picked up the screwdriver and wiped of the black stuff.

The entire time he couldn't help but mentally scold himself; he looked downright stupid cleaning off a screwdriver with toilet paper he'd wrapped around his hand.

But it was effective and the ooze had been wiped away within a few seconds. It had an orange hilt with the words Phillips Head Screwdriver, engraved. He wasn't quite satisfied with its hygiene but concluded it would do. He pocketed it before he had the chance of a second thought telling him to leave behind.

"I wonder what I could use it for?" He wondered to himself, checking the sink and cabinets one last time. Maybe there was something he could unscrew around here? "If Takuro were here he'd figure something out…"

Irritated once again, Hiroshi angrily exited the bathroom and started towards the second bathroom. Inside there were twice as many cabinets as the last room had.

"What is with all the cabinets?" He ground out as he began searching them. In the first cabinet, he surprisingly found a bottle of raspberry scented soap on the first shelf.

"How peculiar…" He whispered. "All of the cabinets are empty…just what is going on here?" He stepped back out into the hallway, speculating in deep thought. "Why in the world are all these items set up like they are? It's as if someone had them set to create some sort of maze…this house is like a puzzle itself. The plate shard must be a coincidence, but why would someone hide a key under a desk? Why would someone hide a screwdriver in a bathtub? What was that liquid _in_ the tub? What exactly is going on here?"

For a brief second he regretted not bringing Nikoru with him. He could hear her in his head, laughing and saying, 'Are you questioning life again, HiroshiPEN? You know you're not gonna understand everything, that's how it goes!'

He pushed her from his mind, refusing to worry about her at this point. He had to trust that she would be okay this time. There had been many times in the past he doubted she would be all right on her own; he'd always end up tagging along with her. This time he had to believe she wouldn't do something stupid like she normally would. After her meet with the oni she _had_ to have a little more sense than before.

Well, she would need a full bucket of sense instead of half if she wanted to survive.

"She'll be fine, HiroshiPEN," he told himself softly. "She's not as stupid as people make her out to be."

Deciding he was calm enough to try the back hallway again, he started into the foyer and down the side way with the distinct feeling he was being watched…

Xxx

Satō screeched in pain, writhing on the ground as tremors washed over him, starting from his feet to his crown. His fingers clenched and unclenched against cold stone. His skin bubbled as a transformation took over him.

He was losing himself to something dark. It went unnamed but he could hear it roaring in his head. Hiroshi's voice suddenly erupted through the closet door. Satō tried to call after him for help, but all that escaped was another cry of pain.

How could Hiroshi not hear him? He was bursting his lungs with pulsing howls and no one heard him. What was going on?

What was happening to him?

Xxx

Satō's in pain, should I feel sorry for him? Hard question…

Anyway, thanks for reading! I know this chapter, as well as the last, was very long! I apologize for that, I got carried away. And sorry if this chapter seemed a bit rushed, I'll edit later but I've been so busy lately. Like you wouldn't believe! My life in general is always insane but it's been worse these last few weeks. XD

Inspiration here would go to '_O Claire' MSD Remix_, _Cry of Fear_ (as stated ;D),** some creepy clown that stalked me at Six Flags** a couple days ago, and **Family Guy** (interestingly enough).

No, no Lemon Pledge. Or flames.

So, like always, review, maybe favorite and/or follow (you know you want to), and tell me if there's something you'd like for me to edit if I missed it.

Thanks! Stay awesome! -Cappy


	11. Horror in Nowhere, Part 2

**Horror in Nowhere: Part 2**

Xxx

Confusion distorted Naoki's handsome face; he had the sudden notion something had changed without his knowledge. He stopped the **Possession** spell briefly to check the inventory chapter at the back of the book. Alas, the note at the top of the page told him what he wanted to know: _Takeshi has escaped_.

Naoki's lips tightened and fury flashed across his face before settling into anticipation. One liberated prisoner could ruin all of his plans; he couldn't let him escape!

He flipped through the book as he waved away the spell in the air. Waving it away was dangerous; whomever he'd placed the spell on could lose their mind or worse, die. But where a normal person would worry and continue it if just to save a life, Naoki didn't have the ability to worry. He had the ability to hate and obsess.

That was something no one knew about Naoki.

He didn't mind if one of the pawns died. It didn't bother him one bit. The only reason he'd feel upset over it would be because he would have less fun with this form of death; he wanted to torture every soul in the house. He wanted to make them scream and sob and beg for release. His black soul was hard to understand.

He had no shame.

No one could possibly ever understand his lifeless being. There were no emotions in him, just pleasure when someone was hurting. The only person he needed to last was Hiroshi. No one could intervene with that.

Naoki ran a bloodied finger over another spell, **Curse**, but passed it, deeming it inappropriate for the situation-for the moment. He concluded using a different spell, an **Entrapment** spell, like the one he'd used on Takuro. He had used a strong spell in Takuro's case.

This spell would be two times stronger.

"If anyone else escapes, I'll have to dispose of them before the big show," Naoki huffed with sharp irritation. He clicked his tongue. "What a bother. How boring will it be if I have to kill everybody before they have a chance to witness the magnificum Umbra's return…" He was suddenly washed with a wave of worry; "I'll have to find the last two books before the others do. If not, this plan will be for nothing…"

But he settled on waiting for a while longer before he started confronting anyone; he didn't want to seem suspicious, not when he'd made it this far. Instead, he began to chant the spell that would keep Takeshi locked away for good.

Xxx

Hiroshi bent down inside one of the closets in the back hall and picked up the lighter he'd just discovered. It was old and scathed. The silver was dented in some places, but when Hiroshi ran his thumb over the wheel a flame spurted from the container.

"What is with all of these hidden items?" He wondered quietly.

For a brief second he was sure he had heard a distant cry but dismissed it; it could have been a figment of his imagination or possibly that (or those) oni playing tricks on him. Without giving it another thought he walked back into the hallway and started to the exit door. For whatever reasons the mirrors in the hallway reminded him Satō had disappeared. He honestly didn't feel like searching for him let alone saving him.

It ashamed him he didn't mind Satō, that he wasn't bothered like he should have been. He decided he'd let the manor run its course, whether it involved saving Satō or not. For the time being.

Memories he hadn't touched in a long time resurfaced. They were little recollections, like the day Hiroshi had met Satō. Satō smiled radiantly and shook his hand aggressively. Hiroshi didn't like that; it gave him a bad feeling. He felt ashamed for quite awhile; here was another student Hiroshi had just met and yet he had judged him from the beginning. He hadn't known the boy for five minutes and he was already pushing him away.

The next thing dumped into Hiroshi's mind was the day he had found his lanky science lab partner crumpled behind the gym house. He had told Hiroshi Satō had bludgeoned his week's savings from him; he had brought it to school that day for a fieldtrip to France. There had been several others whom Hiroshi had found that had told him the same thing. But Hiroshi refused to believe it; he doubted anyone could do something so repulsing.

Then there was the day Hiroshi witnessed Satō assaulting another student inside the band room several days earlier. Looking back, Hiroshi felt he should have done something, but at the time he had been too afraid to stand up for the sophomore. His actions sickened him. The action he refused to take rotted him to the core; if only he had just stepped up and confronted Satō that day! Takuro wouldn't have taken that bullshit. Mika would have talked to a teacher. Nikoru would have jumped Satō (and lost). And Naoki…actually, he wasn't sure what Naoki would have done.

But Hiroshi was disgusted at himself. He hadn't the guts to confront anyone. He didn't want to lose his popularity or his position on the school board but he also didn't want Satō on his tail for the rest of their school days.

Hiroshi slumped against the exit door for a moment, clenching his fists around the knob until his knuckles turned white. _You are such a coward, Hiroshi…You're a coward…_

Now he knew how Nikoru had felt the day she engaged in a fight with Mika. She knew Mika didn't hate her for it, as she had pushed on past that. But every now and then, Hiroshi noticed small changes with Nikoru's behavior when she talked to Mika. Mika was pleasant, as always, but Nikoru looked awkward and sometimes sorrowful. Sometimes she seemed almost as if she were pushing Mika away, not that Mika herself seemed aware of it.

Nikoru just seemed bothered when she talked to Mika. It wasn't consistent, but she was awkward once in a while. After the fight she had even ignored Takuro for a while until she cleared some obstacle between them. She had gotten better at handling conversations with Mika lately, but the month before when shit had hit the fan, they had been almost like enemies.

Hiroshi still wasn't sure what they had fought over, but he was sure it had dented part of their friendship.

Neither of them had mentioned the argument in any way since it occurred.

"No," Hiroshi whispered weakly to himself, taking a deep breath to calm himself. "Don't lament, HirohsiPE…Hiroshi…You may not deserve that awful nickname but remember, your _friends_ where the ones who cursed you, or, well, blessed you, with that name. Don't stop, keep going!"

He pepped himself up and hurried back into the foyer. "Think, Hiroshi! What do you need to focus on first?"

The safe in the music room came to him and he jumped on that decision. How ironic, he usually settled arguments between Takuro and Nikoru, not for himself. But everything was becoming estranged lately. He checked his watch, something he hadn't done in quite a while; ten fifty-seven.

_Can we make it until morning?_ He wondered to himself. He wasn't too sure; I mean, Takeshi had run off somewhere, Takuro and Mika were missing, Satō had disappeared, and Naoki was gone, as well. Nikoru was the only one still about, he hoped.

"They'll be fine," he told himself determinedly as he started up the steps to the second floor. "Focus on escaping. You'll find them as you go."

He trotted across the second floor and slipped into the music room quietly, ready for anything. The piano was where he had left it, of course. He pulled the cloth from one pocket and the soap from another and walked to the piano as he dampened the cloth with soap. It came out quickly and he had to catch himself before all of the soap drained. Some splattered on the floor but that was the least of his worries.

He was usually very particular about cleaning up, but this time he couldn't have noticed if he'd wanted to. He was too focused to notice.

He hurried to the piano and wiped off the blood hesitantly, avoiding any contact with the dried liquid. The cloth and soap were effective; the blood came off easily as if it had been erased. There, printed on the keys, were a 7, 5, and 6.

Irritation flooded him like a tidal wave; what the hell did _this_ mean? Glancing at the safe in the background, Hiroshi groaned; of course, the number had to be for the safe.

The cry he was sure he had heard earlier returned for a quick second. Again, Hiroshi refused to believe it was anything more than an trick to make him uneasy, but he glanced over his shoulder and about the room just to be safe. Now, there was no possible way he would ever fell secure out in the open like he was, let alone anywhere else like inside of that closet, but the momentary relief he had at the moment was as close as he was going to get to a secure feeling.

He walked up to the safe and examined it. It had changed since last time; there were small indents in the metal that looked to be numbers; a nine, a one or an 'L', a six, and a nine. Hiroshi narrowed his eyes, puzzled and, again, irritated. What the hell did _any_ of this mean?

First he decided to try the numbers he found inscribed, nine, one, six, nine. He turned them in on a small knob. He fumed when it didn't work.

"What_ is _this?" He growled sharply. "I mean, what _is _this! This makes no sense whatsoever! How am I to decipher this if there are _four_ numbers and _three_ on the piano? Who's idea was this?" He turned and threw his arms in the air, furious. "This is blasphemy! No, not blasphemy, dammit, I mean-gah!" He raked his head with his nails. "I don't know _what_ I mean!"

He furiously turned and twisted in the piano numbers. Again, nothing. He tried every possible combination he could think of. Then, he decided he'd try in the numbers upside-down just for the hell of it. He was twisting so ferociously he wasn't even sure what he was entering. Finally, as he stepped away in defeat, the safe door clicked and popped open slightly.

Hiroshi was unsure if he was hearing things, but he could have sworn the angels had started singing. Could he really have opened the safe without knowing what he was doing? So 'winging it' _did_ work in some cases. He'd thought Nikoru and Takuro were bullshitting him!

He swiftly jumped back in front of the safe again and eagerly pried the seemingly rusted door the rest of the way open. Curiously enough, there seemed to be nothing wrong with the door. Why had he had trouble in opening it? Ah, well, it didn't matter; he'd found another key.

There was yet another sticky note stuck to its underside.

"What is with all of these sticky notes, by the way?" He inquired himself, thinking hard for an answer as he pulled the note off. "Why would the family leave these keys here like this, with _sticky notes_, of all things, attached?"

He huffed angrily and unfolded the note:

_Kid's Bedroom Key._

"Kid's Bedroom Key," Hiroshi repeated thoughtfully. "Progress. Maybe I can-"

"Hiroshiiiii…"

The hair on the back of Hiroshi's neck stood. That whisper had come from just behind him. He turned slowly, one baby step at a time, expecting another oni.

But that's not what it was.

Xxx

Takeshi fell through the portal and landed on the living room couch. His head was pounding to the point he felt it would explode. Standing from the couch, he was astonished and terrified to find his surroundings were tinted purple. He wasn't sure if it was because he had hit his head on the couch and boggled his vision or if it were the result of the disco lights messing with his head.

All he knew was it was unnatural and that stroke fear inside his heavy heart. This was almost as bad as that bloodstained room. Again, he kept his arms folded in close to his chest and moved to the exit, warily eyeing the table and rug as if expecting them to jump him.

He fled the living room and bolted down the hallway towards the foyer, desperate to find someone and see some life besides himself again. He yearned for it as a Directionator yearns for One Direction.

But when he arrived in the foyer, he found himself alone. His breath caught in his throat and he hurried towards the stairs shouting, "Mika! Mika, where are you? Guys! Where did you go? Guys!"

He received an abrupt chorus of knocks below his feet. It seemed they were coming from the back hallway. He ran back downstairs and rushed through the side isle, entering into the back hallway. "Guys! Guys! Anybody!"

He sped down the hall until he reached the matted area and then stopped. No one was back here. Maybe they were all on the third floor?

He turned around and started for the exit when a symphony of low hums erupted from one of the closets. Takeshi froze with fear. He didn't want to turn around but the curiosity was nagging him. He allowed himself to barely gaze over his shoulder.

He shuddered as his eyes landed on what was the image of a girl in a tattered white gown…

Xxx

Cliffhanger! :D I love torturing characters, especially with pop ups and freak monsters.

Inspiration would have to be from **Hot Shots with Charlie Sheen** (It's a parody of Top Gun), **Eminem's songs Just Lose It and Amityville**, **Alma from F3AR**, and the **awesome crazy Bakura from the origional Yu-Gi-Oh**. Call him what you will, I think he's awesome. He was like a childhood icon to me, I guess. I used to watch that stupid show every Saturday.

Anyway, follow or fav if you want (you know you want to), and please Review to tell me how I'm doing!

Stay awesome!

-Cappy


	12. Horror of Possession

**Horror of Possession**

Xxx

Hiroshi's gut twisted painfully and his heart was once again thudding in his skull. Just a few moments ago he had been worried about puzzles and keys, but now there was something else to worry about.

It wasn't an oni like Hiroshi thought it would be. It was the distorted form of Satō. Only it wasn't him, it was a more twisted version; he had long, black hair now instead of his traditional short cropped, dark blonde and his eyes were no longer blue but yellow. A Cheshire grin spread across his lips slowly.

"God doesn't want to save us," he hissed in a low, breathy tone. "We are trapped. There is no escape from them."

Hiroshi shuddered. "What are you on about?" He murmured cautiously. "Satō…what happened-"

"You are forgotten," Satō hissed and his head dropped loosely onto his shoulder. "It doesn't understand. Asks what happened."

The abrupt change in Satō's dialogue worried Hiroshi immensely. He was honestly shaking in his socks, but he had to pretend he still had confidence. Satō was becoming primal, as if he had lost his mind. He flipped his head onto his other shoulder as Hiroshi slowly made his way towards the piano.

"Satō, what happened to you?" Hiroshi wondered. "Or are you an oni now?"

"It asks, it asks!" Satō cheered. "But _who_ are we, it says? There's flesh here! It rots."

Hiroshi swallowed down his fear and grasped the piano lid for support. His legs were jelly. "If you're flesh, than I'm perceiving you are human."

Satō craned his neck. "You look tasty."

Hiroshi recoiled, his hand slipping on the slick lid. Has Satō just called him 'tasty?' That _definitely_ wasn't Satō anymore; the actual Satō wouldn't compliment Hiroshi in any way. "You're not Satō," he ground out hesitantly. He needed to somehow lure Satō away from the door so that he could escape.

"I have no brain!" Satō was suddenly in tears. "I am not alive or dead! Undead, your answer!"

"You're _undead_?" Hiroshi pushed his glasses up and took a step back. "So, Satō is still there?"

"He is half," was the soft reply. "We are two. You scream in fear on your insides." Hiroshi thought,_ that's only partially true,_ and prepared himself for what he knew was coming. "It won't escape. Eaten, its bones and all." And Satō limped forward.

_Here we go!_ Hiroshi positioned himself to the far right of the piano, knowing Satō would come right at him. But, for whatever reason, Satō went left. _What a dolt!_

Hiroshi was immediately sprinting for the door as Satō wound around the piano behind him, suddenly in a full out sprint as if he had never been limping. Hiroshi was quickly disoriented when he found the knob was stiff inside the door. He pushed away from the door and raced back to the piano, narrowly missing one of Satō's swipes. This half monster Satō was crying like an eager, starving wolf. He was the image of a possessed, mentally ill man torn apart from the inside. That terrified Hiroshi to no end.

_One hit and it's over!_ Hiroshi thought wildly. _He'll disorient me and then take me down_! He dodged another clawed hand and vaguely heard the air rush by from the powerful force of the action.

Hiroshi ran around the piano and Satō jumped on top of the lid, ready to swing. Hiroshi yelled and ducked just as Satō's arm sliced through the air above him. Then he ran back in front of the safe, working on a tactic against Satō. Maybe he could fight back? But Hiroshi didn't know how to fight; he'd only seen examples in movies. But this wasn't Hollywood, this was real life. This was happening and if Hiroshi were caught, Satō would rip him into pieces.

But fighting seemed like the only way to escape this mess. Maybe if Hiroshi could stun him he'd have a clear shot for the door. It was risky, but it was all Hiroshi could think of.

As Satō jumped off the lid and sped forward, Hiroshi braced himself and fisted his hand. The second Satō was in reach he swung. But Satō was quicker than he had anticipated; he caught Hiroshi's hand and brought it quickly to his blue lips, drooling. Hiroshi yelled and yanked his hand back. Satō was open now. Hiroshi took the initiative and kneed Satō right in his gut. With an ear-piercing screech Satō seemed to crumple into himself and he dropped to the floor like a dead leaf.

Hiroshi mentally congratulated himself and ran to the door, twisting the knob furiously. Unfortunately, Satō was back on his feet and sprinting after Hiroshi in a matter of seconds. It was a tense situation but Hiroshi had the door opened with a desperate movement and he ran out the door, Satō dangerously close to him. Hiroshi raced him across the second floor while he thought up another plan.

He couldn't risk hiding in the closet this time; Satō was fast if not faster than the oni. He would break into the room within seconds. Hiroshi decided he'd have to lose him around the third floor. Yes, he could race into bedroom and drop into the hole! Then he could escape into the last locked room on the second floor and hide inside before Satō could find him.

Hiroshi dodged another swing by the railing and headed towards the third floor staircase. He barely made it to the first step when he was dragged back; Satō had hold of his scarf. As much as Hiroshi loved and valued that scarf he valued his life more. He pulled the opposite end off his neck with one hand on the railing and tossed it over his shoulder. Satō had been pulling so hard he stumbled backward until he collapsed on the ground with the scarf in hand.

_I'm sorry, mother!_ Hiroshi thought sadly.

He launched himself up the stairs, running so fast uphill that his legs were trembling. But he didn't notice; he was on an adrenaline high. Finally on the third floor, Hiroshi sped to the bedroom door and leapt inside before Satō had a chance to catch up. Then, Hiroshi ran to the edge of the hole and slid down the makeshift rope like a fireman's pole and landed a little sloppily on the music room's floor. He tugged on the rope until the end he had tied to the bed effectively pulled it sideways over the hole. Just as Hiroshi fled for the door he heard Satō enter the third floor bedroom.

Hiroshi hurried to the locked door and fiddled with the key. His hands were trembling so horribly he couldn't direct the key perfectly into the lock. Upstairs he heard banging and crashing and he knew Satō would be starting back downstairs soon enough.

"Come on!" Hiroshi spat. "Come on, you damn key, come on!"

Finally, after several more tries, Hiroshi successfully fit the key into the slot and the door aptly jolted. He rushed inside and shut the door quietly as a bead of sweat slid down his cheek. Relief soothed his burning heart and he suddenly noticed how horribly his legs hurt. He turned to check out the room when his gaze caught a figure lurking in a shadowy corner.

"Gyahh!" He exclaimed, recoiling in shock.

He was about to turn back to the door when a feminine voice called out, "Hiroshi, wait!"

Hiroshi stopped and looked back at the figure. As she stepped forward in the dark room Hiroshi squinted his eyes and the lights suddenly became slightly brighter. He gaped when he realized the figure was Mika, her normally beautiful face tear-stained and her brunette hair sticking up every which way.

"Mika!" He exclaimed, astonished.

She ran forward and hugged him tightly. "You're okay!" She cried. "I-I was so afraid everyone had…had…!"

"No, no," Hiroshi comforted her, patting her back awkwardly. He wasn't quite good with hugs. "I'm all right." He pushed her back and held her effectively by one shoulder. "Mika, what happened? Where is Takuro?"

Mika's puffy eyes welled up. "He…I don't know. Takeshi, he was right!"

Hiroshi nodded; "Yes, he was, Mika. You saw the oni, too, then."

Mika's lower lip quivered and her shoulders trembled. "Y-yeah, I saw it. T-Tak-_he_ and I were here and it jumped out from the closet. Then he ran out of the room, acting like a decoy, and it followed him. He told me to stay in here, so I was, but then I couldn't get out…" She wiped her face with the collar of her uniform. "I've been locked in here."

Hiroshi pulsed with guilt; to think he'd passed this room many times and hadn't heard her. Wait, he had, he had when he heard the moaning. That must have been her. He felt horrible. "I'm so sorry Mika. Are you all right other than that?"

She sniffed. "Yes. Yes, I'm okay. But where's…?"

Unsure how to reply, Hiroshi slowly shook his head. "I'm not sure where he is, Mika. But I'm sure he's fine; Takuro-" She cringed at the name. "-is strong. I promise, he is fine"

"And the others?" She whispered hesitantly, unsure if she wanted to hear the answer.

Hiroshi cleared his throat; how was he supposed to calm her and tell her what exactly was going on? "Well, Naoki-" She cringed at that name, too. "-is still around somewhere, Takeshi is missing, and Nikoru-" He stopped abruptly.

What _had _happened to her? She had said she was going upstairs! Oh, no. Hiroshi swallowed his fear and thought, _no, don't think that way, Hiroshi! She's much more agile than that! She couldn't have been caught! No, she must have wandered somewhere else, maybe she found the hole in the bedroom, or maybe she was in that other room…I must search there after speaking with Mika. She needs to stay here and hide._

"She's around, somewhere. And Satō…" He paused; how was he going to explain _that_? "Well, Satō…"

"Satō?" Mika persisted.

Suddenly, there was a sharp grunt from beyond the door. Hiroshi covered Mika's open mouth, eyeing the door warily over his shoulder, and moved Mika over to one of the beds in the corner.

'Go to your emo corner!', as Nikoru would say.

The sound evolved into heavy pants and Satō raked his nails against the door. Hiroshi and Mika crouched in the corner.

"Where are you?" Satō's disgustingly malevolent hiss came from beyond the door. "Where _are you_?"

Mika was beginning to shake. Hiroshi shook his head at her; _don't cry Mika, don't give us away!_

Finally, Satō moved on and Hiroshi heard the faint _thuds_ of steps as Satō started down to the foyer. Hiroshi removed his hand from Mika's mouth and sighed in relief. "That was him," he murmured quietly.

Mika's eyes widened in terror. "That was Satō? N-no, oh, God, no! Oh, God, what happened to him?"

She was growing hysterical, but Hiroshi didn't know how to sooth her. "I don't know. Listen, Mika, listen, you need to hear this. You need to be strong. You can't cower away, you must-"

"I'm not leaving this room!" She exclaimed a little too loudly. Hiroshi slammed his hand back over her mouth.

"Mika, you need to calm down!" He whispered harshly. "I know you're terrified, so am I, but you need to calm yourself before you lose it! I didn't say you're leaving; in fact, I want you to _stay here_. _I_ will find Takuro and the others and then we'll come back for you and escape. I promise, Mika, everything will be all right, but you must trust that it will be.'

Mika's green eyes glistened and she nodded. Hiroshi nodded back and removed his hand. She swallowed and took a deep, calming breath. "Okay, HiroshiPEN," she murmured softly. "If anyone can do it, I believe you can."

Hiroshi nodded; "Thank you, Mika. Now, I know you don't want to be alone, but I must leave for a while to figure out where everyone else has gone. Are you all right with that?"

"I am," she whispered. "But before you go, I found this." Her hand stretched forward and she uncurled her fingers to reveal something Hiroshi couldn't see well in the dark.

He took it anyway and muttered a 'thanks.' Then he got up and rushed to the door, Mika's teary eyes following him before she lost sight as he exited.

Xxx

Nikoru was searching around the third floor's back room when she found an empty door against the wall. When she opened it, she was disappointed to find nothing behind it. But when she backed away the knob dropped off and hit the ground with a soft _clink_.

"Cool," she said as she bent down to pick it up. She sang the Treasure Found melody from Zelda; "Duh-duh-duh-duh! I found a doorknob!"

She pocketed it and sniffed, feeling slightly less apprehensive about being found by the oni now that she was making progress. If a broken knob _meant _progress. Which meant it would be more likely to be found out. Strange logic.

It was just as she was standing up that Nikoru noticed a strange pattern swirling around on the door, though she was positive it hadn't been there earlier. It looked like three small circles with a swirl in each set in a triangle. The swirls were twisting clockwise except for the one on the top. It wasn't moving at all.

"Someone should fix that…" Nikoru mumbled to herself. She tried twisting it with her fingers but they slipped right through the door. Surprised, she jumped back and checked her fingers to see if they had vanished. They were as they had been before she'd stuck them in the swirl; they were unharmed. "What the…?"

She took a long, hard stare at that swirl, trying to think of a way to spin it. It was so hypnotizing, she had to keep herself from drifting off into sleep. Eventually, she decided she'd just wing it; she stepped to the side and started to blow on it. Surprisingly, it worked. The swirl started to turn clockwise along with the other two.

"So, does something happen now?" She wondered, sniffing curiously. "What the heck are they, anyway?" She attempted to touch a different swirl but thought better of it. "Nah, I don't have sense as it is. If I lose one more brain cell…"

She trailed off, defeated. She had tried to ignore what Satō had said but she was susceptible to insults. He had practically confirmed her worst fears and she was too shy and too afraid to ask for Hiroshi's answer regarding Naoki replacing her. She wasn't sure if she could take rejection after feeling like she did for so long. And that made her feel weak; she should be able to fess up to her feelings and tell Hiroshi about them without hesitation. But she didn't have the courage Mika did; Mika had been the first to confess her undying love for Takuro. Nikoru couldn't even confide in anyone about it.

But that was being human, as Mika would put it. Damn Mika and her inspirational proverbs.

"I'll tell him at some point," Nikoru told herself defiantly. She wouldn't give into fear like Takeshi did, and believe me, he gave into fear every time he went to the Waffle House behind the Academy and gave in his money to school bullies. She didn't blame him, but she certainly didn't want to be _that_ timid. "I'll tell him next time I see him! Definitely…maybe…Well, I won't _dwell_ on it, that won't solve anything..."

Suddenly, the door clicked and it sounded as if someone were knocking against the wall. Puzzled, Nikoru pulled the door back open by its frame to discover it was empty behind once again. Then, just as quickly as it begun, the knocking ceased and it was silent again.

Nikoru huffed and then sniffed. "Huh. Weird…Guess I'll go find somebody now." She turned back to the door and walked out.

Xxx

A small hole opened below Takuro's feet and he fell through. He reached up to grab something on instinct and yelled fearfully when his hand was sucked into darkness. It seemed to feed on his hand then it slowly made its way around him until he was enveloped inside the black mass. He felt as though he were underwater with no way to reach the surface.

He shut his eyes tightly, praying for it to end. Lights flashed behind his eyelids in polka dots and stripes. They made his head spin until he felt he was spinning himself.

And then, he hit something. Hard.

He opened his eyes hesitantly, expected the devil to be looming over him. But all he saw was the ceiling. He sat up carefully, testing his bones and muscles. Nothing ached, besides his head, so he stood up. He swayed dangerously on his feet and stumbled into one of the walls. On instinct he threw his hands out to catch himself.

His vision was white for a moment and when he came to, he found he was lying on a matted floor in a back hallway.

He had returned to the mansion.

"Mika!" He gasped, jumping to his feet and stumbling drunkenly. His vision was messing with him, making the walls bulge and the floor swirl like quicksand. "I gotta find her! I gotta find the others!"

Xxx

Takuro has returned, yay.

Inspiration is directly from **Eminem's Amityville**. And **The Woman in Black, Bakura, again, the concept of having schizophrenia, and curses in general**.

Note: The next few chapters may be slightly longer to publish since starting this week I'll be packing like an Olympic packer to prepare for moving cross country, and I'll be very busy with errands and last minute visiting. I'll type when I have the chance!

So fav/follow/review (you know you want to!) and stay awesome, guys!

-Cappy


	13. Horror of Intentions

**Horror of Intentions**

_Xxx_

Takuro raced down the back hallway and passed Takeshi, whom he failed to notice. Takeshi's eyes widened in surprise as Takuro rushed right past him and towards the exit.

"Takuro!" Takeshi exclaimed, stretching an arm after him. Beyond the tips of his fingers, Takuro sped through the door.

"He can't see you," the girl whispered, instantly by his side. "And he won't get far; there is a barrier blocking the stairs that he'll pass through. He'll then reappear in the closet again.

She emanated such a cold degree it made Takeshi jump back away from her. Her dull, red eyes scanned him starting from his feet. When she reached his face she sighed softly, reading the confusion there like an open book.

"W-w-who area y-you, anyway?" Takeshi stuttered.

The girl continued to stare him dead in the eyes for several more seconds until she replied simply, "Eve Fau."

Takeshi shivered and took a step back cautiously. "A-are you a gh-gh-gh-gh-"

"A ghost?" Eve looked downcast and nodded slowly. "Yes, I am."

Takeshi's breath hitched. "D-does that mean I…I'm-"

"_You're_ not, " Eve interrupted, knowing his question. "You're stuck in my dimension, though." Takeshi gaped. "I don't know if there is an escape. I've been wandering around for quite a while…" She sighed ruefully. "If only I hadn't gone into the basement…"

"Wh-what's in the basement?" Takeshi asked. As if on cue, Takuro fell back into the closet. He cussed up a storm and ran out and down the hallway again.

"Oh, I meant when I went," Eve explained. "When I died, it was when my brother had locked himself in the basement. I found the key upstairs in the cupboard, but when I went to find him, he had set fire to the basement…" Eve trailed off, crestfallen. "Well…let's just say it hell was in on it."

Takeshi twinged with empathy. She had burned to death. What a gruesome fate. "I'm sorry, that's horrible."

Eve shrugged. "It doesn't matter now. I have to find a way out." She gazed at him hopefully. "Maybe you can help me."

"H-how?" Takeshi wondered.

Eve took a step forward. "I need to find the Light."

"Okay," Takeshi deadpanned.

"I need to find _the_ Light," Eve persisted. "I have to find it or I'll never escape. And with all the activity…"

"What's the matter?" Takeshi murmured awkwardly, trying to be comforting. He wasn't good with situations like this one.

Takuro appeared again. He busted once more out of the closet and sped back down the hallway a third time.

"I have a feeling the activity is due to someone trying to summon the Shadow again…" Eve pursed her lips. "If you're wondering, the Shadow isn't something you'd want to trifle with-"

"How old are you?" Takeshi abruptly asked. Eve gave him an irritated glare. "W-well, I mean, you're using a lot of big words…"

"I am twenty-two," Eve replied.

Takeshi's eyes widened then narrowed with suspicion. "But you look ten!"

"It's because I've been trapped in this state," she explained casually. "You see, when I was twelve my brother moved back home after being kicked out seven years earlier for drugs. I've been reverted back to my childhood self, when I first met him again and was old enough to have memories."

Apprehensive and more than a little confused, Takeshi settled with a nod. "Oh…Okay…"

Eve started towards the closets, notioning for Takeshi to follow her. He did, reluctantly. "We must find out who's reanimating the Shadow and stop them," she said. "Though it won't be easy; they're probably armed with the Black Velveteen, unless there are still parts missing."

"Excuse me," Takeshi said timidly, "But what is the, uh, Black Velveteen?"

Eve stopped and turned to him, shocked. "You mean, you have no idea…?" Takeshi shook his head slowly. "Oh, no…I suppose you'll have some catching up to do."

"What about my friends?" Takeshi wondered, miserably worried. "Will they be all right?"

"Well, that boy Takuro escaped," Eve pointed out. Again on cue, Takuro plopped back inside the closet where he stayed this time, lying on his back defeated and tearful. Eve rolled her eyes. "Pussy. Anyway, they are in danger, but it's nothing we can't fix. Come, Takeshi-" –she turned away and walked quickly to one of the closets- "-we must find the one causing this! And quickly, before they unleash Umber!"

Takeshi laughed sheepishly, concluding he was either dreaming or very high, and followed her through the closet opposite of Takuro's…

Xxx

After exiting the room Hiroshi finally discovered what Mika had given him: lighter fluid. He checked his pockets. The plate shard was still heavy in his coat and there was the lighter in the opposite.

_Perfect_, he thought gladly, pulling out the lighter. _I'll need this_.

As he started off towards the upstairs floor, he filtered the fluid into the lighter. Before he had even reached the first step he bumped into a dizzy Nikoru.

"Nikoru!" He exclaimed, relieved.

She smiled sideways. "Oh, HiroshiPEN! Sorry, I feel a little woozy." She swayed and he caught her shoulders gently. "Whoa, sorry! Dude, I was upstairs and there was-" she swayed against his chest and pushed against him. "-was this _door_ and it had strange swirls and they were all swirling."

_Swirls_? Hiroshi pushed his glasses up his nose, puzzled. What was she on about? "What swirls, Nikoru? You're confusing me."

"I don't know what they were, either," Nikoru sighed and sniffed. "They were…strange. That's about all I can think off right now. And one of them wasn't moving, so I tried to use my hand to get it to move. Only my hand went right through the door!"

Hiroshi wasn't sure what he was hearing. Did she mean it was some sort of portal? That would make a lot of sense, actually. "What happened to your hand?" He wondered, grabbing both her hands and inspecting them. They seemed fine.

Nikoru flushed. "Uh, nothing. Nothing happened."

He gave her a hard stare. "What do you mean _nothing_? _Something_ must have happened!"

"I mean what I said," Nikoru told him. "I pulled them out and they were fine." Hiroshi was still suspicious and he checked her hands over again. "So I decided to wing it-" _Which actually works_, Hiroshi thought. "-and I blew on it and it started moving and I heard something inside the wall."

"Was there someone there?" Hiroshi inquired.

Nikoru shook her head. "Nope, so I left. Oh yeah." She slid her hand out of his and pulled something out of her pocket and handed it to him. It was a doorknob. "I found this. I don't want it."

"Idiot," he huffed, talking it from her. "What will I do with a broken knob?"

"I dunno," she said. "Chuck it at someone you don't like."

Hiroshi gazed at her a moment longer, fighting off a smile. But it got the best of him and he grinned subtly. "All right," he murmured as he pocketed it. "But it better come in handy or you'll have hell to pay."

"Hell, schmell." She shrugged, grinning back at him. "Who cares? We've got people to save."

"Which reminds me," Hiroshi said, pointing to the kid's bedroom. "I found Mika. She's back there."

"Oh, nifty." Nikoru glanced over his shoulder. "Nice to know someone else is safe besides-"

She was cut off by a loud, abrupt knock from inside the wall, as she'd heard upstairs. "That's the knock I-" Nikoru started. Then it sounded as if something was ticking. Nikoru sniffed in anticipation; "That a time bomb?"

Xxx

Back downstairs, Takuro had tried running through the barrier one last time before he gave up for good. He expected to wind up back inside the dark closet, though this time he found himself behind a door. For a moment he was positive it was the closet door but when he emerged from behind it, he found he was in a different area all together.

He was back up on the third floor where he'd first been transported to that dark, cold universe. The door he'd just emerged out from had been where the door to that universe had been. He whipped around and checked to make sure he wasn't dreaming. And he wasn't: the realm there had vanished.

"What the-" He stopped himself short.

A little off to his right, standing in the corner of the room, was the Ao Oni.

Xxx

The sound of running rumbled the ceiling. Nikoru and Hiroshi looked up fearfully. Then, a door was slammed shut.

"Huh," Nikoru said, not noticing the tall, purple figure drifting up the stairs. "Weird. Hey, Hiroshi, I just thought of something!"

Hiroshi glared at her. "Nikoru, this is _certainly _not the time for jokes."

"Nah, I just wanted to point something out!" She exclaimed defensively. Hiroshi shivered suddenly and was near devastated when he felt the hair on the back of his neck stand. Nikoru didn't notice. "See, the oni is supposed to be ao, blue, right? But it's purple! Those bastards _lied_!"

"You…just thought of that, did you?" Hiroshi said, his attention shifting to what he could sense was staring at them from the top of the steps across the floor.

"Well, I just _re_thought it," Nikoru admitted. She scratched her nose and sniffed with a toothy grin. "I knew it before, but I forgot about it. I tell you, it makes no-"

Hiroshi grabbed her arm harshly and dragged her back up the stairs. Nikoru gasped, stunned. "Let's check out what that noise was, shall we?" Was all Hiroshi could think to say.

"Wha-" Nikoru happened to glance over his shoulder again. When her eyes doubled in size she confirmed Hiroshi's fear. "Oh, shi-"

Hiroshi broke out into a full-speed sprint, still effectively ignoring his aching legs as he pulled Nikoru up with him. "Run!"

"I'm goin', I'm goin'!" Nikoru cried, grabbing onto his sleeve as she tried her best to keep pace with him.

They were on the third floor in seconds. The door straight ahead was wide open. Hiroshi started to turn to the door on the left but Nikoru pushed him forward. He glanced at her questioningly. "Trust me on this!" She told him sharply, instantly taking control of the situation.

Hiroshi switched with her; she sped ahead and he grabbed her jacket's sleeve. They skidded right inside the door and Nikoru immediately turned to shut the door. She cringed when she saw the oni hurrying down the hallway after them. It had a horribly unpleasant snarl on its face and it made Nikoru think about Naoki's face when he saw her close to Hiroshi.

It was the kind of look that wanted to do her in.

She slammed the door, refusing to be lost in his dreadful eyes, and pointed to the only piece of furniture in the room: a cabinet in the back corner.

"There!" She exclaimed to Hiroshi, though she soon realized she hadn't needed to tell him; he was already there.

"Brilliant!" He said. "Get it!"

She ran over and climbed inside with him. Part of her was ecstatic they got to press themselves together so closely. Why hadn't she thought of this before?

It was a hard fit at first since the wardrobe was so small but they soon were able to squeeze against each other to make room. Nikoru was sandwiched against the wall and Hiroshi. Hiroshi had both his arms pressed on either side of her shoulder and he crouched so his head wouldn't hit the roof. As a result, his face was heart-throbbingly close to hers'. She now had another reason for her heart to pound, but she kept her sight locked on the door.

Hiroshi himself couldn't keep from admiring the situation. Why hadn't he thought of this earlier? He looked at her face from the corner of his eyes. Though her slender face was slightly blurry he found it made things more enchanting. Of course, no was definitely _not_ the time to be thinking that way but he couldn't help himself. His cold gray eyes gazed adoringly at her darker, greener ones and for a moment he wished he had the courage to kiss her like Takuro did Mika.

But before he could even begin to muster _any_ courage there was a loud _crash_ and he knew the oni had busted through the door. A low grumble rumbled off the walls, giving the duo goosebumps. Their breath hitched and suddenly things became much colder.

Hiroshi could just see it wavering before the door through the crack in the wardrobe's door. It stalked around like it had in the second floor bedroom and flared its nostrils. It disappeared from sight for a moment and Hiroshi knew what it was planning this time. He'd had his own experience earlier when it had hidden within the closet.

He pressed himself unconsciously closer to Nikoru, who in turn blinked, flustered. They waited several more moments in silence until the tension in the air was almost too much to bear.

Then, the oni suddenly appeared right out in front of the wardrobe, its dark, soulless eyes glistening like marbles. Hiroshi quickly looked away and held his breath. Nikoru sensed this and her eyes grew into Frisbees.

_It can't have found us! _Hiroshi thought desperately. _It _can't _have!_

_Xxx_

Takeshi stepped through the closet hesitantly, folding his arms in close to his chest as he trailed after Eve. They were wandering deeper inside the peeling, condemned basement and it certainly looked as Eve said; the walls were crumbling around them and there were darker patches on the ground. Some charcoal was pilled in one corner and an old, torn rug had been hung on the wall.

"Search every room," Eve instructed sharply as she floated off further down the narrow corridor. "I'll search further off."

Takeshi shivered and slowly shuffled to the first door in his sight. He glanced inside and gasped; there was a rotted skeleton in the far left corner. "Eve," he started, "What is-"

He stopped; Eve was gone. Takeshi was very terrified to find himself alone in such a dismal place. He wanted to run off and find her but didn't want her irritated with him. After all, she was his only hope out of this dimension.

He cringed away from the door and went off to another one, but found the next one locked. It seemed every door after that was locked as well. After several minutes of searching for an unlocked room, he found himself in a small room that appeared to be a parlor. Every wall was black and there were piles of ashes of furniture all around. There were two ways he could go: to the left or right. He carefully walked off to the left and searched there for another door, though it took him all the courage he had to even take a step in.

He walked for several more moments until a faint whisper caught his attention. He froze for a moment, refusing to go any further in case someone found him, like the oni. It took him a full minute just to muster what little courage he could and take a few more steps. Soon he came to an open door.

"Oh, no," he whispered miserably, knowing he was going to have to check it out. "Someone's in there!"

A faint chanting was emanating from inside.

"O-o-okay, okay," Takeshi whimpered. "Just a peek." He inched forward. "Just a little peek! Just a tiny, little, tiny-"

He stopped dead, in his tracks, in his dialogue, even his heart stopped. The walls were lined with eyes and words written in a different language. The ground was covered in chalk and off against the far wall there was a small fire surrounded by spell tags, the sort Takeshi had seen in the old witch's store-home who lived on Watabu Street.

And Takeshi was even more terrified and estranged to find who was inside.

Xxx

Sorry if this chapter seems rushed, as I said I'm incredibly busy and I will be for the next week or two. Sorry for the inconvenience!

*****For the time being, this story will also be DISCONTINUED since I have been running slightly out of juice for this series. I WILL RETURN TO IT. I'm currently on fire to start publishing another story: Dear Bastard the Novel. Prologue will be up in a day or so, so watch out for it! It's a Hetalia story. I'm excited to type it up and I'm sorry if it makes you upset that this series is currently stopped for a while. Just remember: I WILL CONTINUE IT! Or every once in a while I'll add a chapter, but it may be every 4-7 days for now.*****

Anyway, inspiration goes to **Maybe Lucky, some Vocaloid song** a friend of mine made me listen to. And I must admit, it's pretty awesome! Credit is shared with** Little Cry of the Abyss by and The Grudge as well as Ao Oni the game.**

So fav/follow/review and stay tuned for the next chapter! And please tell me you're not getting bored with this XD

Stay awesome, guys! -Cappy


	14. Chapter 13, Horror of the Traitor

**Hey, guys! Sorry for the long wait. I've been watching Cry play Corpse Party and it inspired me to continue the Black Velveteen! So that, of course, is where inspiration comes from. You'll all be glad to know that this chapter involves our favorite blonde! This chapter is important; remember what is said here. It may help you solve the puzzle!**

**Anyway, it's good to be back here. I really missed this story! I'm rambling a little too much, aren't I? Okay—enjoy!**

:OO: Chapter 13 : Horror of the Traitor :OO:

"Naoki!" Takeshi gasped, shrinking into the rotting doorway, cowering from the dimming light of the candle Naoki sat by in the center of the charcoaled room.

Slowly, Naoki rose his head from a strange black book he had balanced on one knee and stared at Takeshi. His eyes widened and he grinned a malevolent, twisted sort of grin. "Ah, Takeshi! So you _have _seemed to escape reality, haven't you?" The hair on the back of Takeshi's neck stood. "So, how did you like my oni, Take_shit_? I should think it had a lovely time feasting on your remains, didn't it?"

Takeshi thought back to what had first happened when he had been sitting on the steps with Satō, plugging camera cords into an outlet by the fourth step. The bastard had said some pretty horrible things to Takeshi, going as far as calling him the reason his mother died four years earlier when she'd hung herself. Takeshi had wanted to punch him, but a larger part of him hated conflict.

He couldn't bring himself to inflict any damage on Satō. And he hated himself for it, hated himself for being so weak. Satō was right; Takeshi was useless. He'd said so from the very beginning, but Takeshi believed he could redeem himself.

Deep inside, he still thought so.

But before any violence could begin, that god-awful creature had emerged from the left hallway. Takeshi and Satō hadn't noticed it at first as they were focused on each other. But that thing, the oni, began to drool and the faintest _drip_ of it saliva hitting the tiled floor had caught Takeshi's attention. He looked up, and wished he hadn't.

The oni lunged from the doorway and went straight for Takeshi. He screamed and ran up the stairs as fast as his legs would carry him, the bag of flashlights he'd brought from home still in his grasp. Satō had watched him leave in shock but one glance over his shoulder sent him racing down the sideway.

Takeshi rushed into the first room he saw and hid in the first thing he laid eyes on—the cabinet in the back left corner of the room. He scrambled in, shut the doors, and huddled with his hefty bag of flashlights.

That was where Hiroshi had found him ten minutes later. Takeshi hadn't the mind to form words; he was in shock. But some part of him, his sane part, had reached out to grab Hiroshi as he pulled away and Takeshi found enough sanity to mumble what he had seen. He hoped it would be enough to protect Hiroshi in the future, though being the intellect he was, Hiroshi had denied it at first.

After several moments had passed, Takeshi had heard something inside the closet with him: soft, raspy weeping. He bolted out of the closet, leaving the flashlights and his bag behind, and fled the room. But the moment he had stepped through the door, something had changed. He'd felt it, but there was nothing different besides that.

Suddenly, without even realizing what was happening, Takeshi had literally sunk through the floor and the moment his head passed through, he lost consciousness. Then he'd woken up and found Eve.

He hadn't been killed by the—or a—oni, had he? He couldn't remember ever seeing the oni after being chased up the stairs that first time. If it were feasting on anyone's remains, he'd think it would be Satō's.

"Uh, w-what d-d-do you mean?" Takeshi murmured.

Naoki scoffed with amusement. "You really don't think it would have let you escape, do you? If you're like that—a spirit, dead—then it must have caught up to you. Wouldn't you think it's obvious how you died?"

Takeshi's tongue seemed to swell in his throat. But Eve said he hadn't died! Naoki _had_ to be messing with him. "But I-I'm not dead! I'm still a-alive—"

"Oh, please," Naoki growled. "How could you be? You're a spirit now, which means you're dead. The only other way you could have died is if your stupid wits got you stuck in between a wall and a very hard place."

Takeshi shuddered. "No. No, I'm not dead!"

Naoki began to chuckle. "Not dead, huh? You honestly believe you aren't dead, Takeshi? Typical spirit in denial. That's exactly what you are!"

"I'm _not_!" Takeshi shouted, desperate to believe his own words. "I-I _can't_ be! Another ghost t-told me I'm not!"

Naoki laughed until his eyes were streaming with tears. His laughter was heavy and harsh to Takeshi's ears. If it were anyone—anyone but Naoki—Takeshi, possibly, could have stood his ground. But Naoki's dark eyes slowly blackened until they were just as charcoaled as the burnt wood around him. His pupils were narrow and soulless and they terrified Takeshi to no end.

"A ghost telling another ghost they aren't dead!" He laughed. Suddenly, he was on his feet. Takeshi couldn't even remember watching him stand. "That's priceless! You really cannot think you're alive when it's so obvious you're dead! My oni found you, I watched him. It was, as our dear friend Nikoru would say, better than cable!"

"_Your_ oni?" Takeshi exclaimed, utterly confused. "What do you mean, _your _oni? And-and—what are you talking about?!"

Naoki's grin twisted until it reached both his ears and his pupils were without a single glimmer of light from the candle. "I mean exactly what I say, Takeshi. The oni is mine. There are many onis all throughout the nexuses."

"N-nexuses?" Takeshi stammered, overwhelmed with the knowledge there were more than one of those creatures, more than one hunter searching for his friends. And Naoki had the power to control them. "What is that?"

"Oh, Takeshi," Naoki sighed, taking a few steps forward. Every _thud _against the floor made Takeshi's teeth rattle. "A nexus is a dimension, like the one you're in and the one your friends in. Takuro has momentarily escaped his own lonesome parallel universe, but notice how I say _momentarily_. And your nemesis, Satō, you'll be glad to hear, is under possession as we speak. However, I seemed to have corrupted the spell, so he may be lost forever. Mika, the whiny bitch, is cowering in a corner and, well, here _I_ am. You are just as stupid as you look. I always thought that, you know. Since I first laid eyes on you." With another laugh, Naoki continued: "You are not as handsome as Hiroshi-kun, to be sure! He is superior to all of you fools, especially that bitch Nikoru. She thinks she's so wonderful and lovely, but really she's an attention whore!"

Takeshi shuddered and his heart sank into his stomach when Naoki spoke about Hiroshi the way he did, the way he insulted Nikoru mercilessly. Takeshi honestly thought Hiroshi was a douche and Nikoru was a little too hyper and not very school smart, but they were both great people. And Mika was lovely, the most loveliest of them all! Takuro was a great guy, though he was Takeshi's secret rival for Mika's affections, which Takeshi would never obtain now. But the words Naoki had spoken about Hiroshi…they made Takeshi shiver. It almost sounded as if this black-haired psycho was in love with Hiroshi. Then, an epiphany washed over Takeshi: Naoki was in love with Hiroshi. It was so obvious! Why hadn't Takeshi seen that?

"You-you did all that?" Takeshi whimpered. Witness to Naoki's new and true behavior, Takeshi was positive Naoki could never love. He could only obsess. He couldn't actually love Hiroshi. The wall between himself and Hiroshi was Nikoru; she loved Hiroshi, and Takeshi was positive Hiroshi loved her the same.

"I did." Naoki sounded proud of the fact. "But don't worry. You'll witness Umber's return in the end. You won't have the option to miss it. Even if your friends die before the time arrives, I will stabilize their spirits long enough to celebrate the event. Of course, you're already dead. But no matter, no matter." Naoki smirked. "You'll still be invited."

"I-I don't get it," Takeshi blurted, confused and bewildered more than he ever had been in his entire life and in any past lives before or after. "So that means I-I'm in s-some other dimension from m-my friends. And then how-how do you control the demons? How do you—"

Without even blinking or averting his gaze, Takeshi realized Naoki was standing right in front of him, his fingers curled around Takeshi's chin.

"Don't run ahead of the story, Takeshi," he cooed. Takeshi yelped and jumped backward out of his grasp. Naoki laughed again with amusement and Takeshi couldn't help but note that Naoki laughed a little too much. "This is only the beginning, Takeshi. The story hasn't actually begun!"

Takeshi glanced at the black book grasped tightly in Naoki's right hand and had a wild thought to make a lunge for it. Without even realizing what he was saying, Takeshi yelled, "Back off, Naoki! You don't scare me anymore! You're not a demon—you're a human _being_!"

A new expression took over Naoki's face. It was something Takeshi had never seen before. Naoki suddenly looked shadowed, as if he were his own silhouette come to life, yet he was still colored with pale grays, like watercolor stains on a dry canvas. His eyes were black, soulless pits that looked as if they could suck the life from a living spirit. Takeshi thought that if he were still living, Naoki would have absorbed his own life. And the frown stretched across Naoki's perfectly sculptured lips was a reflection of his eyes. It was soulless, as if Naoki were already dead. And the longer they stood there, staring at each other, Naoki's eyes seemed to sink into his skull. Takeshi was rendered speechless and he was paralyzed with terror. He felt nauseous and faint. He thought that, for a dizzying moment, he would pass out.

"Don't presume I'm human because of the way I look or feel," Naoki hissed. The candlelight shrank, as if Naoki's dark aura was absorbing it. "You don't know what you have stumbled upon, Takeshi. You won't leave the manor…ever." Then, Naoki smirked again. It was more malevolent than before. "Dead or not, you're going to be stuck here. Forever. Mika and Takuro will die in a lover's embrace as they are consumed by the flames of hell, which they will feel. Forever. Satō will never recover his mind and he will be trapped within a universe of pure darkness. Forever. Nikoru will feel the flames of hell. Forever. And Hiroshi will be mine…Forever. They'll all die. I'll kill them myself. Then, I'll burn them all along with the rest of the city, and then the world."

"How cliché," Takeshi whispered, unable to stop himself. World domination. That was what everyone seemed to want these days.

It was silent for a moment. Then Naoki began to chuckle. He chuckled until he was sore and then he broke out into wild, deranged laughter. He laughed until he cried and then howled and screamed with evil. Takeshi almost pissed his pants and stumbled backward. The rumble that rippled through the floor woke Naoki from his trance. With an affixed gaze on Takeshi's heart, Naoki swayed drunkenly. "No," he seethed, starting forward. "I want to condemn you now."

Takeshi yelled something garbled and scooted back on his bottom, his nails digging into the rot of the floor as he clawed his way backward. "I didn't have to!" Naoki shouted as if he were on the verge of tears. "You made me! This is your fault, you know. You could have averted this." He grinned again, voice growing with horrific spite. "But you're going to lose your soul to hell. I'll burn your soul and expel you forever to hell!" Takeshi's back hit the wall and tears spilled from his stinging eyes, blurring his vision. "You're all going to die! _All of you_! _Ahahahahahahahahahahah_!"

"NO!" Takeshi shrieked, cowering against the wall as if would sprout hands and guns and shoot Naoki dead. He threw his arms out in front of his face and his knees pressed so sharply against his abdomen he thought he would squish his stomach. "NO, NAOKI! DON'T! STOP!"

Naoki's laughter was abruptly cut short. There was a _thump_ and the floor by Takeshi's feet vibrated. He curled into himself, afraid to open his eyes.

"Takeshi!" A girl's voice said. "Are you all right?"

Takeshi lowered his arms and gasped when he discovered a papery pale face nose to nose with him. Then he heaved a tremendous sigh of relief when he realized it was Eve. She was holding a large rotten plank in one hand and Naoki was out cold by her feet. His hair brushed Takeshi's ankle and he quickly stood and stepped sideways down the wall. "E-Eve, I'm s-so happy to s-see you!"

Eve dropped the plank on Naoki's head and shivered. "He isn't one of your friends?"

Takeshi laughed like a madman and hugged himself. "Friend? No! He's not my friend at all! He tried to kill me. I-I-I-I thought Naoki was w-weird, but…He tried to kill me!" Takeshi grabbed his hair. "He's obsessed with Hiroshi! And he's gonna kill Mika! He was gonna kill _me_!"

Eve suddenly appeared before him and set a hand on his shoulder. "Listen well, Takeshi. You cannot let him scare you. Even if you must pretend, you have to ignore his threats. If you don't, the curse of the manor will take over your mind and you will wallow in depression and terror until the day you die—whether it be from natural causes, starvation, or you end your life yourself."

Takeshi paled. "D-don't say that! Don't say s-s-stuff like that!"

Eve blinked and, for a swift second, Takeshi thought he saw her lips twitch. "I'm sorry. But you must know how dire a situation this is. Here in this universe, the onis are incapable of attacking us. However, they _can_ attack your friends."

"Naoki said he could control him," Takeshi said. "B-but did you kill him?"

Eve shook her head. "No. Spirits like me cannot kill the living."

"Why not?"

"Because I am not strong enough." Sighing, Eve slid her hand off of Takeshi's shoulder and walked back to Naoki. "I am not strong enough to inflict damage that extreme. Since my death I have been wandering about alone, and loneliness has done its toll on me. I don't mean to complain…I simply am not strong enough to kill a living spirit."

"W-well, how does Naoki control the-the onis?" Takeshi wondered. "Can-can-can we stop him?"

It was silent for a long while. Eve stood by Naoki's head as if she wanted to stomp on him, crush his skull. It concerned Takeshi and for a moment he was sure she would stomp on him. But she finally turned and murmured, "That black book."

Takeshi gaped and ran by Naoki's side. The book was still in his grip. Cautiously, Takeshi reached for it. His stomach dropped as his hands melted right through the book like water through a filter. "Nnn-it-it went right through!"

"Yes," Eve whispered. Her voice was grim and it sent tremors down Takeshi's spine. "We are not able to touch it. It is a force all of its own."

Takeshi turned to her, trying to keep his eyes away from the under side of her skirt. "What-what do you mean? You just hit him over the head with a floorboard!"

"The black book is not something that is in a spirit's power to touch," Eve explained. "It is a cursed book not even the onis can touch, nor any other human. It is one of the cursed volumes of the Black Velveteen."

"What's that?" Takeshi wondered skeptically.

"It belonged to the first resident of the manor," Eve explained. "She was a witch. The infamous witch of Shade Manor, Umber. She lived here before my family, the Faus, did. She was evil, they say. She had had a wretched life and preyed upon the living souls of the village that is now your city, Domino, Japan. She used the onis to capture mortals. They would eat their bodies and release their souls for her to absorb. I do not know how much of that is true, however I do know that Umber was a living person at one time. The Black Velveteen used to be a whole book, a spell book. However, the village people long ago finally found the courage to confront Umber and they burned down her house. A villager discovered the book and tore it into three separate parts.

Later, someone must have found the books and fixed them. I'm not sure how, or who found them first, but my brother found two of the volumes and, somehow, melded them together. It was the death of him. I'm sure you've heard the stories: Man kills family then burns the house down." Her head hung in anguished defeat. "I don't know what happened to him, and it hurts to know I may never know…"

Takeshi fidgeted. He was horrible at comforting people. He raised his hand and patted her foot with a few light taps. "I'm sure you will someday. I'll help you figure it out, I promise."

Eve stared down at him with a hopeful glint in her eyes. "Thank you, Takeshi. That means so much to me."

Takeshi grinned, proud he hadn't made a fool of himself. "No problem, Eve."

They were that way for some time until Eve finally looked away and continued; "Now, we have a problem. Any soul can wake the Black Velveteen, however only a truly unique soul can unleash its powers. I've never known anyone with the capability to wield the curse. Naoki cannot be normal, for no mortal could possibly wield that book the way he does. He is something different all together."

Takeshi couldn't think of words to reply. Eve was saying Naoki wasn't human. "Well, I-if he's not human…" He gulped. "What is he?"

Eve's features darkened until she resembled a shadow. "I don't know."


	15. Horror and Relief

O/O/O/O/OO/O/O/O **Chapter 14: Horror and** **Relief **OmGoMgOmGoMg

_We're going to die_, Hiroshi thought as the oni gazed at him through the crack.

It had been standing there for far too long; Hiroshi expected to be killed any minute. Its eyes were a hazy orange and it's mouth was slack, revealing its yellowed fangs. Hiroshi found his sanity slipping; he had started imagining how he'd look when its fangs found him and ripped him apart. Blood, blood, blood, guts and blood. It was all he could see. It covered his eyes like a screen and he knew not even his wit could save him at this point.

_I'm going to die and I can't do a damn thing about it._

Absently he clenched a lock of Nikoru's hair. She stared at his cheek, knowing full well what was to come. She had always thought she'd be ready for death when it came, but sitting there in that tight fitted cabinet with Hiroshi so close and an oni peering in hungrily made her realize there might not be an escape this time. She realized she really wasn't ready for death.

Hiroshi's mother had died several years back. Hiroshi had crumbled before her eyes. At first he insisted he was fine, that death was a natural thing, that it would come to everyone and he might as well wish his mother well.

It was a shitty Tuesday. Hiroshi hadn't shown up at school and Takuro and Nikoru became worried. They called him several times, but he never answered. Finally, Takuro set his cell down and sighed.

"I know where he is," he said.

Nikoru paled and raked her nails through her hair distressingly. "Yeah, I know, too."

They found Hiroshi at the funeral home. He sat silently in the back room, the embalming room, and sat next to his mother's corpse on a small wooden stool. His back was turned but he knew when Takuro and Nikoru had stepped inside.

"It's all right," he said absently. "I'm perfectly fine."

But his friends knew better. They hovered closely by his chair but feared to touch him if he should suddenly crumble like a cookie. Hiroshi laughed. It was so grim and dark, as if he had played a joke on them. Maybe he was amused with their hesitance or maybe he was simply lost, unsure how to save himself without asking for help.

"Maybe you two would rather throw a party for her now that's she's gone, but I can't." He laughed again. It was so quiet and so distant. So sorrowful. It sounded hollow, like he hadn't meant to laugh but cry. It was a placeholder, a substitute to protect his dignity. "I don't know how to feel. I'm so confused. My head is spinning…Death is a natural way of life, yet I can't…It's just not…fair."

"Oh, Hiroshi." Nikoru sighed, swallowing a love confession. He was so vulnerable. She stepped around the chair and embraced him. Without a word he closed his eyes and numbly began to cry. "I'm gonna be right here, okay? Don't be sad, HiroshiPEN. You'll make Takuro cry."

Takuro simply grinned in return and stood beside Hiroshi without denying what Nikoru had said. He rested a hand on Hiroshi's shoulder and rubbed soothingly. "I'm sorry, bro," he murmured. "Just know we're here for you. Hang in there, HiroshiPEN."

Hiroshi cried on Nikoru's shoulder for a long while. Then, when he had calmed himself, Takuro began joking and goofing around mercilessly. He shoved a pencil up his nose and told a story about the day Ben Franklin felt up his sister's cousin's mother's uncle's brother's chimpanzee (_I'll tell you one thing: That Chimpanzee sure as hell got what he wanted!_), Nikoru told some blonde jokes (_So two blondes are driving past a cornfield when they notice another blonde in a rowboat. One blonde scowls and says, 'It's blondes like that that give us a bad name.' 'Yeah,' the other blonde says, 'If I could swim, I'd go out there and drown her!'_) and she and Takuro played Leap Frog around the room. Hiroshi didn't laugh, but he smiled and murmured political jokes.

She wondered if Hiroshi would cry like that for her. She wondered if, possibly, he'd murmur sweet things to her as she died. She wondered if he would build a monument for her once he was rich and famous and had the money. Maybe he'd even build a museum for her.

Hiroshi swallowed and gazed back at the one visible eye. It watched him intently and a dribble of saliva spilled over its jaw. Hiroshi did not flinch. He took a deep, stilling breath, and waited.

And just like that, the oni turned and left. It melted through the door and disappeared. Stranger, it didn't return. Hiroshi's breath caught and his heart stilled, hope lifting his heart. He waited a while, stumbling through confusing possibilities. Was it going to wait for them to come out? Was it really gone? It was a freaking predator! _Of course_ it couldn't have left just like that! Like on a whim!

Hesitantly, he pushed the wardrobe door open. It creaked and Hiroshi's heart stopped, alarmed the oni would rush back in and take him. But there was nothing. Nothing but a deadly silence. Hiroshi sighed a shuddering breath and carefully stepped out. Then he turned and extended an arm for Nikoru to take. She sniffed and shuddered, but took his arm and allowed him to help her out.

"HiroshiPEN…" She whispered. "Oh, God, that was creepy shit! It was right outside."

Hiroshi nodded. "It was. But we can't let it stop us—"

"I wasn't gonna let it!" Nikoru exclaimed. "I was just saying—that was close! But if it knew we were in here…" She trailed off, knowing Hiroshi was wondering the same thing. His face darkened and he shivered. Then she realized how close they were, how open his neck seemed. "Hey, hey, Hiroshi…"

He sighed; he was beautiful when his tight face relaxed. "Yes?"

"Where'd your scarf go?"

Hiroshi scowled, about to retort when the door opened. They both jumped, taken off guard and suspicious of the oni. _Lured into a fake sense of security_, Hiroshi thought foolishly.

He didn't feel as bad when he realized it was Takuro. The red head was standing in the door frame like a lost child. His eyes were wide and dilated; his skin was pale, and that was easy to notice because he was always so darkly tanned; his fingers gripped the door like a child would his mother's hem. For a quick second, Nikoru wondered if it was his ghost.

Realizing they weren't illusions, Takuro stepped fully inside the room and started towards them. "You guys," he said. "You—you guys are all right."

Nikoru met him in the middle of the room. She ruffled his hair, hesitant, as if he would disappear. "You're really here. Ahhh, shit, are you all right? Did it hurt you?"

Takuro grinned and shook his head. The color returned to his face. "No, that bastard had nothin' on me. He didn't get anywhere _close_ to catching me!" He ruffled Nikoru's hair right back as Hiroshi joined their circle. Well, it was more of a triangle now. You're right, doesn't matter. "HiroshiPEN! You're all right, bro!"

Takuro grabbed Hiroshi in a bone crushing hug and gave him a noogie. "Enough!" Hiroshi exclaimed, flustered. "Enough of that!" Takuro simply laughed, hauled him into the air, and swung him around. "Takuro! What—"

Nikoru laughed and skipped around Takuro as he spun. Then, as he set Hiroshi back onto his feet, she caught him in between her chest and Takuro's in another crushing hug. "Huston, we've got hope!" She cried, struggling with tears of relief. "We've got hope!"

O::O::::O::OOOO::O::::O::O


	16. Horror of Impending Death

So, I finally conquered writer's block with great triumph! Aren't I brilliant? Hahahahahaaaaaaaa!

Anyway, I've decided I'm going to go back and try to finely cut the rest of the chapters within the next week or two. I'm going to fix them up—you know, cut out some of the unnecessary drama, clean up the characters, that kinda boring stuff. Editing! Joy!

But you guys go ahead and enjoy this chapter. It's the start of something new…No, kidding! High School Musical is…eh…

Well anyway: Inspirational icons! Tom Hanks, for one, because I love the way he freaks out in The 'Burbs. What else…Hetalia. Easy learning history is always good! Let's see—Markiplier's cruelty for forcing his friend, Wade, to play horror games on a live stream. And Florence/Akefi/Akefia/Bakura/Tozokuo, whatever you wanna call him, because he's such a badass and he's freaking awesome when Marik's all like, "I'm Marik Ishtar, bro!"

Then Bakura's just like, "I don't care."

BAM! AWESOMENESS!

Okay, but anyway, really, enjoy the chapter! I'll have more comin' soon!

-Twinkies

V::V::VOV::V::V _Chapter 15 : Horror of Impending Death _V::V::VOV::V::V

Naoki woke with a splitting headache. Dazedly realizing he was flat on the ground, he staggered to his feet and looked around. The first volume of the Black Velveteen was still with him. There was a splintered floorboard lying by his feet. Dammit! Takeshi had escaped! But he was trapped inside the ghost's realm. What was the worst he could do there?

_Don't fool yourself,_ Naoki's subconscious hissed. _You know there could still be an escape. First, we find who attacked you so maliciously. It could not have been Takeshi…it may be his little friend he mentioned. Then, we search for the other two halves of the book. Quickly._

Naoki grimaced. "Indeed," he whispered. Sighing, he brushed his bangs out of his eyes and started down the corridor.

V::V::VOV::V::V

"So it basically just ditched you?"

"Yes." Hiroshi shivered, remembering the vivid image of the oni's wiry orange eyes watching him through the wardrobe slit. "I know it saw me. I know it did. But it didn't attack. I don't know why."

"Maybe you just think it saw you," Nikoru suggested.

Hiroshi shook his head. "I know what I saw, Nikoru. I know it saw me. It was…watching me…" He sighed and walked over to a desolate chair flipped on its side. He righted it and sat, relieved that he could finally rest his weak legs. "I can't help but wonder if this means I'm a sort of…an asset to this house."

"Asset?" Takuro echoed.

Hiroshi shrugged. "So to speak."

"What'd you mean, _asset_?" Takuro wondered.

Hiroshi was silent for a moment. Then, he shrugged again, as if there were no answer, as if his suspicion had no meaning. But after a moment, he answered adequately: "I have this strange feeling…I feel…Tied."

"Tied?" Takuro echoed again.

Hiroshi glared at him through his lashes. "Yes, Takuro. Must you repeat everything I say?"

Takuro rose his palms. "Don't get defensive, Hiroshi. It was just a question, dude."

Hiroshi sighed. "You're right. It was…" Apologies had always been the toughest thing for Hiroshi to express. Maybe it was because Hiroshi felt they were unnecessary, or possibly it was simply how embarrassing it felt to admit he was wrong. But Takuro knew him well; there would be no hard feelings. "Well, anyway, I have a hunch."

"That's not good." Nikoru grimaced.

"I mean an idea, Nikoru," Hiroshi murmured.

Nikoru's brows furrowed, her lips pressed tightly together. "…That's what I meant. I knew that. I _knew _that."

Takuro slapped her on the back. "We're sure you did, Nikoru."

"But I _did_!"

"Do you want to hear my concept or not?" Hiroshi shouted over them both. They turned to him, eyes wide. Hiroshi's gut twisted. He had been on edge lately, and he felt as if he could be pushed over at any moment. Takuro and Nikoru both had to be feeling the same way, so why weren't they taking the situation seriously? "Look, I know you two find it easier to keep your moods light, finding humor in everything, but I must stress that this is a dangerous situation." He paused, searching his friend's eyes for some sort of realization. "You two do know this, don't you?"

Nikoru's head hung. "I know, I know…But what would we do without some kinda optimism?"

Takuro nodded his agreement. "This is terrifying, Hiroshi. We know that." He flashed Hiroshi a crooked smile. "But if we aren't livening things up, who's gonna keep you from hiding in your turtle shell?"

Hiroshi blushed, surprised with Takuro's analogy, but he swiftly dismissed it and scoffed, determined to keep a straight face and cross authority. "Takuro, do you know the difference between a turtle and a tortoise?"

Takuro frowned. "Damn, this again. HiroshiPEN, you've asked that, like, fifty times in the last week, man. It's a lame question—"

"Turtles swim and tortoises live on land," Hiroshi answered sharply.

"Dude…" Takuro groaned and shook his head. "I just wanna lighten up the mood, man. We need to keep ourselves from getting freaked out."

"Guys, come on," Nikoru said. "I'm terrified. Seriously." She motioned towards the closet. "I mean, when I was in that closet, it occurred to me that we might not have hope. It hit me that we could have been eaten, or whatever the hell it is that those guys do." She stepped forward, gazing at Hiroshi imploringly. "Don't you think about the flip side, though?" Hiroshi sat silently, puzzled. She wasn't making much sense. Nikoru bit her cheek. "If we take the situation too seriously, we're going to lose our heads—literally. Hiroshi, Takuro and I are always the ones trying to lighten up your mood, because you worry too much and you have a tendency to over-complicate some situations. You're incredibly intelligent, Hiroshi. I really admire you for that. You always have a plan and you know just what to do."

Hiroshi braced himself, preparing for a falling out.

Nikrou noticed his stiff shoulders, his darkening eyes, his clenched jaw. "I don't want to fight the whole time, HiroshiPEN. But I need a favor." She hardened her gaze and spoke firmly: "You need to stop being such a pessimist and lighten up your damn self." The only indication Nikoru had that hit home was the defiant glint in Hiroshi's cool gray eyes. She didn't want to back down, but she allowed her tone to soften if only a fraction. "I'm scared, okay? And I know that if _I'm_ scared, you've gotta be scared as hell, too."

Nikoru expected some kind of reaction, a cringe or a blink. But Hiroshi was deathly still on his seat. He betrayed no show of emotion. It struck a nerve somewhere inside Nikoru's heart. "Please don't be mad at me, HiroshiPEN. I just want us all to get along for a little longer, okay? I don't want anyone—"

"I understand, Nikoru," Hiroshi ground out, insulted. "Refrain from apologizing. It's unnecessary."

"Hiroshi, man, that's not fair," Takuro said. "Don't be a jerk."

Hiroshi glared at him. "_What?_ I'm not being a jerk. I'm simply agreeing with Nikoru—I _am_ being a little too pessimistic." But his cool, angry tone betrayed him.

Nikoru ground her teeth. "Dude, I was just saying—"

"You have more to say?" Hiroshi retorted. "I would have thought you'd said enough."

Nikoru growled, her almond eyes narrowing. "Oh, so you wanna play _that _game, do you? Holy shit, Hiroshi, can't you admit you're wrong—for _once_?" Hiroshi slid his glasses back up his nose with maddening calmness. "This is what it's all about, isn't it? You can't just say, yeah, I admit, I'm being a bitch, but I'm sorry. Why? Is it gonna burn your tongue off, Hiroshi?"

"That's enough!" Takuro exclaimed. Nikoru was as red as a firetruck and Hiroshi was sitting as if he were glued to the chair. Takuro groaned in exasperation. "You guys are kinda wigged out, you know? Probably because of what this atmosphere can do to you, but you guys have _really _gotta chill before we have a falling out."

Neither budged. They didn't say a word. Instead, they regarded each other with sour expressions and bitter glares. _You're a spoiled brat behind the scenes_, Hiroshi's sneer growled. _Bit me_, Nikoru's challenged.

"Can you two not fight?" Takuro insisted.

Normally, Nikoru would continue fighting until she was satisfied. But her gut argued with her mind: Don't fight here or Takuro will kick your ass, Hiroshi won't talk to you for forever, and you guys will never shut up. Turn around, Nikoru, just turn around and leave. It's hard, but you gotta do what you gotta do.

Nikoru obliged, but she needed a minute to calm down. She felt she needed some alone time before she shattered a vase over that damned Hiroshi's head. There was the aching need to continue the fight, but she ground her teeth together and quickly exited the room, aware that she was probably overreacting.

Hiroshi cringed as the door slammed shut. He stood but Takuro interceded him. "Hang on, Hiroshi," he said. "Let her calm down for a minute."

"But the oni—" Hiroshi began, trembling.

"I'll kick its ass, all right?" Takuro pushed Hiroshi back onto the chair. "Just chill, would you?"

Hiroshi held his breath, biting back a harsh retort, and reluctantly sat. "How childish," he all but whispered. "She left the room…"

Takuro nodded. "Yup. You can really piss people off. You're pretty good at that." He smiled at the closed door. "You guys fight on and off all the time. It's like me and Mika fighting. I wouldn't worry 'bout her. She'll come back in in a bit."

Hiroshi twitched. "I'm worried about her safety, Takuro! You know one of those—those _things_ could appear at any time! And Nikoru doesn't even _think_ before she acts! It surprises me, sometimes, that she's lived _this_ long! An oni could—"

"Dude," Takuro chuckled, "I know you love her—" Hiroshi gasped. "—but, come on, dude, you've gotta stop worrying about her. She's a big kid, Hiroshi. She's a force to be reckoned with, don't you think? I believe in her."

Hiroshi wanted to run out of the room and beg Nikoru for forgiveness, but his pride would never allow it. "When…When do you think she'll return…Takuro?" He ached to see her again. His heart constricted with guilt.

Takuro shrugged. "Mika usually comes back after a couple minutes. She'll be back in a bit, I promise." He studied Hiroshi's ashen face with amusement and curiosity. "So, HiroshiPEN, how long have you liked her? Since, like, freshman year?" Hiroshi squirmed. "Why haven't you told her yet, man? You should tell her now—then she won't be pissed at you for much longer." He wagged his brows suggestively.

Hiroshi grimaced. "I—I just…" He sighed and sunk his face into his hands. "I practically woke up one day and realized how important she was. We had an argument over something ridiculous—I can't remember what—and she kicked me. I thought for sure that would be the end of our friendship…and I suppose it struck a nerve. I almost decided to skip school the next day, afraid she wouldn't want to see me. But…" He smiled fondly at the memory. "She smiled and greeted me as if we hadn't quarreled. It wasn't too long after Satō became a friend of her's that I…"

Takuro's grin reached his ears. "_Duuuude_! You're _jealous_ of that guy! Holy cow shit, you're actually _jealous_!"

Hiroshi flushed, suddenly realizing what he had divulged, with Takuro as a witness. He'd said the stupidest, mushiest stuff. All where Takuro could hear. "I—I—I am _not_! How could I be? He's _using her_! He just wants her _ass_!" Shocked with himself, he slapped a hand over his mouth, hoping Takuro hadn't heard that last part.

But Takuro heard everything; he cracked up and laughed at the ceiling until his lungs hurt. "Whoa, man! Nice word usage!"

"E—enough!" Hiroshi exclaimed, frustrated, and aware that he was dramatically red in the face. "Takuro, I thought Satō was honorable, that he sincerely liked Nikoru. Even then I'd rather die than witness his slimy hands crawling all over her, but he's simply using her. I told her, and she dismissed me in the beginning. But he advanced on her after he hit me—"

Takuro's face darkened. "Whoa, whoa, HiroshiPEN, he _hit_ you?"

"He did," Hiroshi huffed. "But it doesn't matter now."

Takuro shifted stiffly. "That's bull, man…I didn't…I don't even…" He shook his head regretfully. "I'm sorry, man. I knew you totally digged Nikoru, so I didn't say anything about her and Satō because…well, I kinda wanted to see what you'd do." Noticing Hiroshi's pissy expression, he quickly continued: "But I get it now! Don't get pissy—hang on! I thought your face looked weird…" Hiroshi looked ready to spit nails. Takuro couldn't help himself; he laughed. "Sorry, sorry! I didn't mean it as an insult. Your cheek just looks kinda purple."

"Do you believe me, Takuro?" Hiroshi asked sheepishly.

Takuro studied him a while longer, processing everything his friend had said. "Yeah, dude. I believe you. You never lie about stuff, and I _know_ you wouldn't just pin something like assault on a dude if he didn't do it."

Hiroshi crumpled into himself, wishing Nikoru would walk back in soon and forgive him with her generous smile. "That idiot better come back soon…"

Takuro nibbled on the inside of his cheek, wondering why he had never suspected Satō before. He had some major rethinking to do. What if Satō chased Mika? Ohhh, he'd kick his ass!

"Takuro—" Hiroshi revived his attention. "—I forgot to mention I found Mika."

Takuro whooped. "Why the hell didn't you say so before?! You know where—_where_!"

Just as Hiroshi parted his lips to reply, a startling scream ripped through the air.

V::V::VOV::V::V

Takeshi jumped. "Wh—what was that?"

Eve glanced around the rotting basement corridor. "My guess is that an oni finally found one of your friends." When Takeshi gasped, Eve instantly became focused. "Come," she said, running for the basement door. "We need to hurry!"

Takeshi charged after her, thinking of Mika. "Sh—should we—I mean, can't we just go up through the roof?"

"I wish that were an option, my friend! However, spirits are not so much permitted to while the floors and walls of the manor are disturbed."

Takeshi panted, trying his best to keep up with the agile spirit. "What do you mean 'disturbed,' Eve? What does that—"

"When an oni attacks, the walls of the manor are momentarily disturbed," Eve explained. "They harden, keeping any intruder out for the time being until it has finished…whatever it is it has started!"

Takeshi suddenly felt nauseous. "So the oni is, uh—how do you even know if it's attacked?"

"Can't you sense the walls?"

Takeshi looked around, confused. "They're wood. So?"

"They're shadowy," Eve said. "That's the best I can explain it! We must hurry! We might have a chance at rescuing your friend if we can get to them in time!"

"But they're fast, aren't they?" Takeshi stumbled around a corner. "_Can_ we make it?"

"We can try!" Eve reached the stairs and climbed them as quickly as she could. "Come on, Takeshi, faster!"

Takeshi felt his legs quivering beneath him. "I'm trying! I'm trying!"

V::V::VOV::V::V


	17. Horror in the Shed

**So, here it is! The next installment of Ao Oni: The Black Veleveteen. I tell you, Writer's Block is a jerk. Sorry this was delayed, but I hope you had a merry Christmas and a Happy New Year, too!**

**Inspiration: the origional **_**Ao Oni game**_**, the awesome game **_**Haunting Grounds**_** that I really need to play again (especially **_**Hewie**_**), **_**Slendertubbies**_**, and several **_**Creepypastas**_** I read over the break.**

**Xxx  
**

**Horror in the Shed**

Xxx

Nikoru sat up, eyes wide and hair wild.

Black and purple was all she saw. The floor—or whatever she was lying on—was slippery and soft. She felt as if the world were tilting underneath her sprawled legs, and constant flashes hurt her eyes and made her dizzy. Where was she? This wasn't the mansion.

She'd been on the stairs just a moment ago, hiding from…that thing. It was hovering before the door that must have been that playroom Hiroshi had mentioned. She watched it melt through the door like a water would through a sponge, leaving a blue stain on the wood. She had turned away, her back pressed against the wall, and sat quietly, one hand covering her mouth. That was all she could remember.

She cautiously began to stand but her knees buckled as the world abruptly flipped sideways. It was as if a rug had been pulled out from under her; she tumbled, did a back flip, and landed on her back, in that order. Maybe without the back flip, but yeah, it happened. Bewildered, she sat and accessed her surroundings once more: atmosphere filled with black and flashes, a slippery but soft floor, a tilting, abstract universe that filled her with maddening confusion.

_Please tell me I'm not in a freaking belly or mouth or something,_ Nikoru thought callously. _I'm not Jonas and there's no way in hell there'd be a giant whale in a mansion._ The world tilted again and she jerked—her bottom sunk into the floor. With a startled yelp, Nikoru jumped up and rolled onto her side.

She lay there perfectly still, inhaling deeply and waiting. A few moments passed and Nikoru's heart sunk; the closet had been a close call, but this was obviously another story entirely. There might not be an escape this time.

"Okay," she mumbled, a finality in her undertones. She relaxed and dropped her face onto the ground, surrendering herself to whatever was to come next. "I'm gone. I'm signed out." She shivered as she sunk into the floor again; it was sucking her into something dark and silky. She shifted, uncomfortable, but then relaxed again, thinking it would be easier to suffocate to death rather than wait to be succumbed to something worse. "I'm out."

Suddenly, the atmosphere shifted and the heavy scent of must reached her nose. The slippery ground became thick and soppy and an unwelcome substance slathered her eyelids and began climbing up the inside of her nose.

Nikoru's reflexes reacted faster than her brain could register and she reeled back onto her knees, startled. The stuff was slimy and just plain gross. Repulsed, she blew her nose on her jacket's sleeve and wiped whatever it was off of her nose, then rubbed her eyes. She snorted in disgust and fingered her bangs out of her eyes.

Mud. It was everywhere—on her jacket, on her hands, on her jeans, up her nose.

"The fuck!" She exclaimed. She rose to her haunches so fast she stumbled and propelled backward.

Then realization hit her—mud. Mud?

Mud!

She looked wildly around, forgetting she was as dirty as a pig. She even forgot her own name for a moment.

Under the gray, cloudy sky, there was the mansion, but it was the backside. It looked…condemned from the back; the shutters were torn off and strewn across the ground and the windows, once glassed in, were shattered. Such a contrast from the front.

And if that wasn't bad, the yard was even worse.

It was overgrown; weeds had claimed possession over the winding, twisting trees, and there were shrubs ranging from three feet to twenty feet tall. They towered like giants, baring their barren sticks like teeth. Fencing the yard was a tall picket-fence. It had been eroded and rotted from rain and loomed precariously around here, blocking whatever was beyond. The solitude it created could have driven one mad with loneliness—but, far off to the left, there was a gate. Nikoru could see the yellowed hinges they were so large.

Her jaw dropped. "Unbelievable," she whispered in awe. "I'm outside. Oh, God, I'm out. I'm out." As she stood she chanted those words, incredulous. "I'm out! I'm alive! I can leave now!"

She began running towards the gate, a relieved smile stretched wide across her lips. But then she stopped and looked back at the house. A sense of longing overtook her.

"No," she murmured, disappointed. "I can't leave. Damn." It was almost painful to turn away from the unlocked gate that would secure her freedom, her sanity. But she wasn't done yet.

Anyone else would have feigned courage, just to put on an admirable show to the ghosts that observed them. But Nikoru was made of more stuff than that; she was feigning courage for those who were dearest to her. Though her head was pounding, her stomach was wrenching, and her legs were shaking, she knew she couldn't just leave. That would mean death for the others. She'd need to muster up all the courage she had to stay.

"I can't leave them," she sighed grimly.

_Bark!_

Nikoru stilled, listening intently. There was a grove in the back corner, the willow branches draped over a small wooden shack as molded as the picket-fence. There was a square cutout on the side facing her that looked to be a window, but it was boarded up by thick slabs of plywood.

"Dog?" Nikoru shouted. "Are you a dog?"

_Bark! Aroof! Whimper._

It sounded as if it were wounded. Without thinking, Nikoru rushed towards the shed. Her jeans caught on a thorn bush and she ripped herself free, nearly stumbling in the process. The dog yelped, its eager voice disturbing the atmosphere like ripples in a pond. Though it sounded anguished, it was also a sort of…light. It was the one thing that actually touched Nikoru. It was the key to her sanity; a single torch in this dangerous, confusing place.

It made her nostalgic.

Then the howling ceased. Finally reaching the shed, Nikoru peered into the window curiously, forgetting where she was—oblivious to the danger she was in. Spiderwebs hung loosely from the corners of the window and they fluttered in the light, humid wind. There was something right inside, pressed against the wall under the jutting sill. It looked like a frame lined with glass. There were stains everywhere and a crack in the top right corner, the part closest to her. Beyond that, she couldn't see; it was incredibly dark inside.

"Dog? Are you there?"

_Woof! Whimper._

"Good Lord, dog, you sound awful!" She started to reach in when a web caught her hand and startled her. She pulled back and sniffed in the cold air. "Yeah, I'm an idiot, I shouldn't do that."

Wondering around the shed, Nikoru finally found a door on the backside. It was small and narrow; its hinges had been torn off, but it was held in place by a broom stick.

"Oh, that's what it's held up with?" Nikoru shook her head. "So lame. Dog, how did you not escape already?" She grabbed the broom stick. It was soppy, as if it had been drenched in water for months. One would have thought it had cracked in half from the weight of the door. Nikoru tugged it free.

The second the stick was removed, the door fell forward. Nikoru jumped back just as the door collapsed on the spot her toes had been. An explosion of dust and freezing cold air rushed out and blasted her in the face. She stumbled back a foot, covering her watering eyes with her arm, and sneezed.

"Damn door," she muttered acridly. From under the dirty sleeve, she could see several webs covering the backside of the door, filled with bugs and dirt. Several spiders scurried out from the darkness of the shed and headed for her shoe, drawn to the warmth. "Whoa!" Nikoru gasped, backing quickly away. The spiders lost interest and crawled around her. She soon lost sight of them as they disappeared into the grass. Paranoid and creeped out, Nikoru jumped on top of the door, preferring not to be crawled on.

A slight breeze blew at the back of her head and she turned. Still, the shed was dark, so dark it couldn't be humanly possible. The door was practically screaming, Don't enter, moron! But from the looks of it outside, it hadn't been that large. The dog had to be right inside.

But that didn't make it any less creepy.

"Hey, dog," Nikoru called softly. "Can you come out? I really don't want to go in…"

_Whimper. Whimper. Woof!_

Nikoru sighed; "Well, hell, here I go."

The dog continued to whine as she stepped inside, cautiously eyeing the walls and floor. It was humidly cold and dank in there, the worst place to keep a pet. Speaking of which, what could the dog be doing in there?

_It has to be tied_, Nikoru mused, _or it would have run a long time ago. _

Several more steps in and the atmosphere changed drastically. It had gone from fragile to dense, as if a hoard of people were crowding Nikoru on all sides. The scent of rusting iron reached her nose. It was strong and gross and burned her eyes.

Through blurred eyes, she could just see an outlined figure off to her right. Instantly, she stilled and held her breath, trying to understand what she was seeing. After a few seconds, her eyes adjusted and the figure soon constructed a person. Nikoru's heart flew into her throat and apprehension gnawed at her stomach. The dog barked again, snapping Nikoru out of her haze.

Coincidentally, there was a small, red handy flashlight on some sort of counter beside her. She caught it out of the corner of her eye, but wasn't sure what it was either. Without removing her eyes from the figure, Nikoru reached down and groped it. Realizing it was a flashlight, she picked it up. She was hesitant—what would she reveal? Would she regret it?

After a short pause, Nikoru snapped the flashlight up and pointed it right at the figure then pushed the button on the bottom. The light swallowed all darkness within five feet and revealed a mannequin; it was tall and lean with crystal blue eyes and red, red lips. Nikoru breathed a sigh of relief, but paused and squinted at it, trying to decipher whether it was a guy or a girl.

Again, the dog barked and knocked Nikoru out of thought. She shook her head violently and itched her scalp.

"Okay, dog," she murmured, starting forward. "I'm comin' your way. I'll help you out, but you better thank the hell out of me. There are nasty spiders all over this hell hole and—"

She stopped, her eyes wide. Outside, this place had seemed so small. Inside…it had to be the size of her apartment. It was huge and long and there were different doorways, two per side from what she could see, but the light didn't reach whatever was inside. The front room she was standing in was lined with counter tops covered in rusted yard instruments, nails and screws, and a red caked saw. The items, though common for a gardener or for a caretaker of a large yard, disturbed Nikoru. This wasn't a shed—this was a freaky ass cabin in the woods or some shit.

She hurried forward, wanting to leave as soon as possible, and peeked into the first room, unable to help herself or her wandering eyes. It was barren and, like everywhere else, covered in dust. The floorboards were rotting; Nikoru was sure she'd fall through if she stepped on one. Turning, she looked into the next room. It looked the same as the first, but the floor was littered with nails and a hammer. The dog whimpered again, from further down the hall, and Nikoru moved on. Her flashlight revealed several more doors.

The next room on the left was stuffed with old, withered tree branches that seemed to had been used for firewood once, but Nikoru merely spared it a glance. The room across from it was empty, and the one beside it was, too; the room across emanated a sour smell and Nikoru grimaced with acute disgust.

"Yeah, you better be thankin' me, dog," she mumbled sardonically.


	18. Horror of Your Worst Fear

**All right, next chapter! I've recently moved into a new house, and I've been extremely with the renovations.  
**

**Inspiration: The Original Game, Amnesia: The Great Work, and Schizophrenia.  
**

**Xxx  
**

**Horror of Your Worst Fear**

**Xxx**

Hiroshi's heart front flipped into his throat.

He had thought for sure he'd find Nikoru nearby, on the top floor, but she wasn't there. She was gone. She'd wandered off, and now Hiroshi felt sick. Who knows where she could have gone; she had such a curious personality she could have discovered a secret passageway outside for all he knew.

But what if it had been her who'd been screaming? What if she'd been caught? What if he never saw her again?

Takuro was feet ahead of him, barreling down the stairs like a bat out of hell. He pointed from the third step down and shouted, "Hiroshi! There!"

Hiroshi rushed over to the railing and peered down. There was a large blue stain on the playroom's white door. Hiroshi felt as if the world were going to slip out from under him; Mika was in that room. And…hell, Takuro…

He was already at the door by the time Hiroshi had caught his bearings. Hiroshi ran down the stairs after him, though he wasn't sure how he kept on his feet. His head was numb, as if it were empty, and he suddenly felt over-exhausted, his strength totally exulted. He wasn't even sure if he was on the same planet anymore.

Takuro reached the door before he did and kicked it open. From behind, Hiroshi could see the top of a dark purple head and he hesitated. He felt as if he were treading on nails. His neck prickled and his stomach contracted painfully.

Takuro faltered before flying into the room, screaming, "NO! MIKA! GET OFF OF HER!"

Hiroshi almost passed out. Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God, Mika.

She was sprawled on the floor, her neck torn at the base, and her left arm was twisted into an unnatural position. Her glazed brown eyes were still wide open, glazed, haunted with death. The oni was lying over her, its jaw caked with fresh blood. It looked up at Takuro, unfazed.

But that didn't fool Hiroshi; he saw the evident hunger in the monster's eyes. It's jaw slowly dropped as if it were tasting the air, revealing jagged teeth that pointed all different directions.

"Takuro, no!" Hiroshi screamed, sprinting forward, his stamina suddenly replenished.

Takuro either didn't hear him or was ignoring him. He pulled off his right shoe and chucked it at the oni. With a gurgling groan, the oni stood and glared down at Takuro, its souless eyes wide and challenging. Takuro back away, looking frantically for something helpful. The oni stomped closer, one step at a time, its eyes growing wider and wider, its jaw dangling like a broken limb. It was seething rotting death, a stench that occupied its own nasty category. Then it lunged and Takuro hadn't a second to brace.

Hiroshi was beside him in the same beat. He grabbed Takuro's arm and launched him to the side, propelling them both into a bed. Takuro groaned, momentarily disoriented from hitting his head so harshly and suddenly. Hiroshi jumped to his feet and pushed Takuro over the other side of the bed, hiding him. The oni whipped around, its agitation clearer than a wine glass, and it lurched towards Hiroshi.

Hiroshi dived out of the way as the oni's hand came down on the place he'd just been standing at. It swung it's bulky figure around to follow him. The small black book fell out of his pocket, and Hiroshi quickly snatched it back up and bolted to the door before the oni could catch him. Its massive palm whipped through the air right above his head.

It was getting faster. But it paused at the bed and sniffed.

"Come at me!" Hiroshi yelled, captivating the oni's attention once more. He was out and down the hall in a blur, heading for the back hallway closets. At the moment, it was the only place where he could think to hide. He only hoped Satō wouldn't be skulking back there. "Come at me, you stupid blue blob!"

The oni cried out angrily and sprung forward. Luckily, Hiroshi had already made it to the first step on the stairway. The oni narrowly missed him and whacked its forehead against the wall. The force of the vibrations rocked the stairs and Hiroshi slid down several more steps, nearly tripping on the way down. He skipped the last three, jumping over them, and braced himself before he fell sideways. The oni growled wildly as Hiroshi disappeared around the stairway corner and hurried down the flight after him. Hiroshi, panting and exhausted, slammed the back way door open and slammed it shut with his foot.

His head was pounding with the intense adrenaline as he jogged down the corridor. There was a door back there he was positive he hadn't seen before, but he suspected that was because he had been rushing through the last time he'd been there. He tried to focus on the closets instead, for he wasn't completely sure the door was even unlocked. If it weren't…well, he didn't want to think about that.

Finally, as he turned the corner into the matted room, he heard the oni's malicious hiss echoing from down the hallway. He gasped, trying to pull some air into his lungs, and slipped between the closet doors. He pulled them shut carefully, without a sound, and crept into the furthest corner back. Then, he crouched and waited.

The apprehension was nearly unbearable. He felt sick to his stomach. Would it be obvious he'd hidden there? Was it intelligent enough to discover him? What would he do if it did?

The upstairs wardrobe came back to him; the oni had clearly seen him through the crack in the doors, but it hadn't dragged him out. It had almost been as if it hadn't been hunting him, but someone else. Nikoru, perhaps? No, then the oni would have lost interest in him in the playroom—it would have targeted Takuro.

Where was Nikoru?

An abrupt _clank_ came from the other side of the closet door. It was breathing heavily. Then, something occurred, something strange and disturbing.

"Lovely…" It whispered.

Hiroshi became as still as a plank. It was talking.

"Lovely…Hiroshi…" It breathed, its breath like a harsh gust of wind. Hiroshi couldn't breathe; he sat ridged against the wall in silent trepidation. His heart pounded erratically against his chest and he thought for sure the oni could hear it. "Lovely…"

Then Hiroshi heard the oni backing away, its voice still ringing in his ears like an air horn. It said something else, something Hiroshi didn't catch, and then the air was still. The atmosphere felt less clustered as it had before. Carefully, Hiroshi crawled forward until he could see through the crack of the doors. The oni was no where in sight. But Hiroshi hesitated; what if it were lying in wait just around the corner?

After taking several moments to calm himself and regain his breath (he was never much of an athlete), Takuro came to mind and Hiroshi was stunned with the sudden force of the memory—Mika's lifeless corpse lying on the ground in a light pool of her own blood, her neck torn and her eyes wide with the horror of her death. Was it painful? Had she bled to death, or was it instant? Hiroshi preferred not to know.

But then the realization of Takuro sitting alone in a room with his late sweetheart brought Hiroshi back to reality, and he hung his head at the thought of sitting there with him. He didn't want to stand in a corpse's presence. He didn't know if he could take it—knowing that body was once a living, vivacious girl who was one of his closest friends.

His sanity was slipping away with every moment. He wasn't sure how much more he could endure. It seemed this was the ultimate test. He'd always been the logical one—everything could be explained—and now…logic was a lie. It was empty, held no value or purpose. As long as the mansion existed, logic did not.

"Oh," he whispered wistfully, "What do I do? Where do we go from here?" Dizzily, he stood and slid the closet doors open. He stepped out slowly, testing his legs.

_Takuro was there for me_, he thought solemnly. _When mother died, he was there. He rescued me from sitting alone. The least I can do is sit with him. I'll find Naoki, Takeshi and Nikoru later. _

He started down the hallway, and the basement door he had been leaning against went unnoticed.

**Xxx**

Takeshi and Eve materialized on the opposite side of the basement door. They had some trouble with getting through. It was as Eve had said, the walls were shadowed, and apparently that also made them thicker and harder to ghost through. It had been like warping to a whole different dimension; the universe caved in on them and Takeshi swore the walls were smacking him. It had taken several minutes just to walk through. Eve had explained that, during an oni rampage, which happened quite often, the walls would cave inwards and create a barrier. Wherever the oni was, the barrier would become saturated with its aura, and no amount of spiritual energy could break through—unless you were alive.

As they raced down the hallway, Takeshi had tuck his chin. He hadn't been subjected to much light down in the basement and the bright ceiling lights in the back way proved to be too…bright. Eve, however, didn't seem to mind. She sped into the foyer and was already half way up the stairs by the time Takeshi had made it through the door.

He put his hands on his knees and took a moment to catch his breath. He'd never been much of an athlete.

"Takeshi, come _on_!" Eve shouted from further upstairs. "Hurry—now!"

Takeshi groaned and practically crawled up the stairs. He didn't really want to see what damage the oni had done. After all, he'd been stuck in the basement for the last hour or so, and the oni had teeth the size of orange juice cartons. He couldn't even imagine the things those pointers could rip through and he didn't want to think about it. How many people had died since they had first arrived?

The top level was tinted blue, Takeshi noticed. Once again, the walls were concave and parts of the floor were bulging up at him. A sudden _thump_ caught his attention. He turned to look down the stairs and was met with a blast of warm air. It felt as if someone had punched him in the middle of his back. The shock of it distracted him for a moment; he hadn't felt so warm in so long. A cough brought him back and he turned again to see what had pounded him.

It was Hiroshi! He shivered and looked around suspiciously. Takeshi gaped; Hiroshi had walked right through him. He hadn't even heard him coming, nor had he seen him on the first floor and he had been buckled over for a short couple seconds there. It was really strange and, honestly, frightening. Eve had mentioned something about losing touch with the other side…was this the beginning of it?

"H-Hiroshi!" Takeshi exclaimed frantically. He reached for Hiroshi, but his hand disappeared into his forearm. Again, he was met with the same warmth, but it was weaker. Hiroshi gasped and jumped away. "Hiroshi, can—can you hear me?"

"What?" Hiroshi whispered, looking wildly around. "That was certainly cold…"

"He can't hear you," Eve murmured softly.

Takeshi slumped. "I just…I just thought that…maybe…"

"Takeshi…"

Takeshi pushed himself onto his tip toes to see over Hiroshi's shoulder. Eve was standing just outside the playroom, her glazed eyes filled with something heavy. Hiroshi slowly turned and started towards the room, walking right past Eve.

"Takuro, I lost it," he said.

Takeshi's heart sank; it was Takuro. He'd been hoping to reunite with Mika after—

"FUCK!" Takuro's cry ran in Takeshi's ears. Eve backed away from the door. "Hiroshi, she—she—dammit!" Takeshi shuddered. Takuro was the quarterback, for God's sake! He sounded as if his legs had been torn off. "I—fuck, Hiroshi, what do I do? What do I _do_?"

"I don't…" Hiroshi trailed off.

Takeshi was shaking like a leaf. He didn't want to know what was going on. He was terrified. From what he could register, someone was…well, it was a 'she,' and Takuro…shit, it was obvious he was crying. Which meant that—

"She didn't even—God, Hiroshi, it's not _fair_!" Takuro cried. Why can't—why wasn't it me? Why did it have to be her? I just…God, Mika, please don't…Oh, God, no!"

Takeshi's head spun. He collided against something, but it didn't register with his senses. He felt as if he were stuffed with emotion, so much emotion his head was bursting.

"I'm sorry, Takeshi," Eve murmured, "but this is only the beginning."

Naoki sauntered up the stairs, silently pleased with the distraught sob of pain that rang from the floor above. At the top, he almost ran right into Takeshi. Again, he was pleased; he knew Takeshi was in love with Mika. What a pain in the ass for him, to know what might have been could never be. Not that it could have been in the first place.

"Well, Takeshi," Naoki chuckled. Takeshi became rigid. "What a surprise seeing you here." He laughed as he walked through Takeshi's soul. Warmth swelled in his hands as he stole all the heat Takeshi had stored away to keep himself from fading into the floorboards.

Ghosts passed through the living to absorb heat and replaced the warmth with their cold aura. Without warmth, a spirit could not exist in the world of the living. They would simply fade away.

Takeshi wheezed and sank onto his knees. Eve jolted forward but stopped short. Naoki smirked; she was intimidated by him, as well she should be.

"You are repulsing," Eve sneered.

Naoki grinned. "And you are dead."

Eve flinched and rushed past him to assist Takeshi. She placed a hand on his collarbone an hummed. An incantation of sharing heat. Naoki found their positions laughable; Takeshi was stuck in that translucent body and Eve was forever dead. She was completely at Naoki's mercy. He could have 'misplaced' her long ago, but he had been kind enough to let her stay.

Naoki strolled into the playroom and raked his bangs out of his hair. If he was going to start acting, might as well look presentable while doing it. He watched the back of Hiroshi intently, the way he was slumped over slightly, his head hanging, his beautiful glasses tipped too far on one side. His hair was mussed, tangled, and Naoki realized his scarf was missing. Not much of a shame; Hiroshi's long neck was slender and very pale…

Takuro looked up from his mourning and noticed Naoki in the doorway. He mouthed something inaudible and Hiroshi whirled around, eyes wide. Naoki pretended to look horrified and covered his hand with his mouth.

"Oh, my," he whispered. "Oh, Mika. Oh, my."

Takuro cradled her in his arms, holding her close like a kitten. If Naoki were a cat, he'd be purring. Under his soft, aristocratic hand, he smiled happily. She looked like she'd been hit by a car, and there was a gaping wound at the base of her neck. She, too, was a figure of humility. To be dead and have your body looking like that—so twisted and broken and bloodied! Why, what would Mika think if she saw her body like that? Naoki would have been embarrassed, for sure.

"Where have you—" Hiroshi began.

"The fucking oni found her!" Takuro shouted. "The bastard got her!" He peered down at her face. Her eyes were closed, but her mouth was still parted slightly, forever resounding a silent scream. "Why? Why wasn't it me? Why couldn't it have been _me_? Why her? Oh, God, why?!"

"Takuro, we _must_ find a way out," Hiroshi said firmly, as if he'd been waiting to say it all night.

"FUCK YOU!" Takuro boomed. "You go find a way out! Mika's dead—don't you _care_?!"

Hiroshi's eyes darkened. "Takuro, you know I do. Mika was one of my best friends. I care very much, but, Takuro, there are several others—"

"Fuck them!" Takuro roared. "God, _you _go find them, you bastard! I can't—" A sob abruptly cut him off.

"Takuro, please!" Hiroshi yelled, suddenly vehement. "We can save Mika!" Instantly, he had Takuro's attention. Naoki even looked intrigued. Hiroshi gulped—where had _that_ come from? Well, this was one of those go-with-the-flow times, like Nikoru always said. "W-well, if ao onis exist, then so must revival! This place is magical—I feel it. We can find a way, but first we have to rescue the others. I have to make sure they're safe. It's our responsibility to rescue them."

Takuro shook his head furiously. "No, no, she's dead. I'm not going anywhere. I'm not leaving her. I'm not leaving!"

Hiroshi swallowed. What was he supposed to say after that? How was he supposed to reply to that? He'd never seen Takuro so…forlorn. There had to be a way to lighten the mood—before Takuro cracked.

"Say, Naoki," Hiroshi said, turning to him. "Where have you been?" Takuro began to reply when he realized Hiroshi hadn't been speaking to him. His jaw was dropped as he witnessed the flicker of apprehension in Naoki's expression. "We've been running around everywhere, and yet we've had no sign of you until now." He glanced at Takuro. "In fact, I've been running around for a few hours now, and I haven't really seen any of you around. Nikoru has gone off wandering, as she always does, and Takeshi was hiding in the closet. I can understand that, but now that he's nowhere to be found, I've also realized I haven't seen much of anyone."

Naoki frowned. "Come to think of it…I've been having the same problem." He smiled reassuringly, but Takuro was a little suspicious. Something was…false. "When we first arrived, I rushed straight upstairs. I suppose I was just interested in exploring my own area, so I took the liberty of searching the upstairs rooms. Unfortunately, I seemed to find myself in some other dimension when I walked through the—"

"I did, too," Takuro mumbled.

It was so quiet Hiroshi wasn't sure he'd heard him. "You said you also…"

Takuro shrugged, his shoulders tense. "Yeah. Yeah, I went into one of those rooms. After I…when…I distracted the oni and ran upstairs. There was a closet in the back of that room we were in upstairs. I opened it and hid in it, but then I was in some other place. I don't know where I was, but it wasn't here. Then there was a ticking and I fell into the closets in the hallway behind the foyer. I tried to get out, but it kept taking me back to the closet. I tried a couple times, and it finally worked, but I was…I heard you guys yelling and wanted to find you. Then, when we were…up there, it was—it was gone and there was just a door."

"Why didn't you tell me this?" Hiroshi inquired, his voice barely above a whisper. Did Takuro not trust him enough? Then again, what had this to do with trust?

Takuro glared at him. "Well, aside from you talking, I didn't get a word in edgewise."

"That is rubbish!" Hiroshi exclaimed, his fire returning. "You had as much opportunity to talk as I did! You should have said something!"

"Well why didn't you tell me Mika was still in here?" Takuro countered instantly.

"Because we were discussing another topic," Hiroshi bit out. "And I didn't see how she could have been in danger—she was hiding beside the bed, in the corner! How was I supposed to—"

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" Takuro hissed.

"Why didn't you run here first?" Hiroshi snapped. Takuro cringed. "You could have gone straight to her, yet you came upstairs instead."

"I had to see," Takuro rasped. "I had to see if I had been crazy or not…" He hung his head. "I wanted to see you again because I felt like I was going insane. I didn't…I didn't know either. I didn't know. I thought that…I assumed she was safe. And I didn't know where anyone else was, so I was excited to see someone again."

"She wouldn't have left," Hiroshi said. "When I found her, I told her she should have come with me. She argued with me, strict that she wouldn't leave." _Might as well leave out that she was waiting for you. _"She was firm on her decision and she told me to go ahead. I also thought it would be all right, and I suppose I was careless. But I didn't see the point in her tagging along with me; I was searching for Nikoru—" Were Takuro's eyes failing him or did Naoki just scowl? "—and I thought it would be dangerous."

It seemed for a moment that both Hiroshi and Takuro had a mutual understanding. Takuro pondered this and his rage finally subsided. "Oh. Okay."

Hiroshi's gut wrenched. Oh, okay? That was it? "Takuro…when I find Takeshi and Nikoru—" Again, Naoki scowled. Takuro wasn't imagining it. "—I'll come straight here and we'll all escape together, okay? For now, however, I need you to lay low. Stay here with Mika. We'll find a way to save her."

Takuro shrugged again. "You…you're starting to sound like Nikoru."

Hiroshi frowned. "How so?"

"Well…" Takuro chuckled weakly. "You're always such a pessimist, I guess, and…you're suddenly sounding like the whole when-there's-a-will-there's-a-way thing. I think you're learning, HiroshiPEN."

Hiroshi stiffened. Learning? From Nikoru? He wasn't sure if he should have been happy or insulted. "Yes, well…I suppose I am, aren't I?" He puffed air from his cheeks. "Well, it would be that way, wouldn't it be? We've been together—what—since we were kids? I think you two are starting to rub off on me."

"Yeah," Takuro said, a hint of laughter subtle in his undertones. "Took long enough."

Hiroshi nodded. "I suppose so…Well, you stay here and I'll search for the others, all right? If you feel up to it, help would be appreciated."

"…Kay," Takuro whispered.

Hiroshi patted his shoulder, something he'd never actually done. "I'll be back soon, I swear," Hiroshi said. Then he started for the door. He paused beside Naoki. "Will you help me?"

Naoki nodded feebly. "Of course, Hiroshi-kun. But…you've said nothing of Satō. Why?"

Hiroshi shook his head. "Satō is a little out of sorts right now. I didn't want to worry any of you, but I suppose I should have said something. He's possessed, I believe. Just watch out for him."

Takruo clenched his jaw. "He was possessed and Mika was alone—no," he added when Hiroshi opened his mouth to speak, "it isn't…it's my fault."

"Also," Naoki said without pause, "Have you found anything of use yet? Say, a small black book?"

Hiroshi looked taken aback. The atmosphere expanded, swelling with apprehension, and Hiroshi shook his head. "No, actually, but I found a plate shard. It was in the kitchen. The noise we heard when we first arrived was a plate shattering against the ground." He withdrew it from his jacket pocket.

Naoki nodded bitterly. "I see."

But Takuro noticed Hiroshi running a finger over whatever was in the opposite pocket. It bulged out slightly, poking out from the dark material, but Naoki did not take notice.

Hiroshi and Naoki exchanged glances and Hiroshi departed. Takuro watched him close the door from under his bangs, a sense of loyalty beckoning him to follow. But he couldn't find the power to stand; he couldn't leave Mika yet. Her death was such a blow…Takuro's heart was crumbling inside his chest. He'd always hoped they'd be together. They'd lasted so long, since freshman year. Marriage was something for adults, but Takuro and Mika had decided that, once they'd finished collage, they'd exchange vows. That would give them time away, time to decide if they really and truly loved one another.

But now that Takuro was holding her, staring into her voided eyes…he couldn't believe he'd actually agreed to letting her go for several years while she completed collage. If he had known how limited their time was…he was a fool. A fool in love, and a fool in general. He'd really screwed up. He had thought for sure that Mika could protect herself. The playroom seemed safe enough; he told Mika to lock the door as he was running out. He thought he'd be gone for just a few minutes, but he hadn't been expecting the wardrobe.

"Why did he lie to me?"

Dazed by his self-loathing, Takuro didn't give the statement much thought. "Yeah, he's fine."

"No, he isn't," Naoki snapped sharply. "It's dangerous to go alone."

"Then why don't you go with him?" Takuro wondered quietly.

"Why don't _you_?" Naoki ground his teeth. "Mika's death should influence _some_ sort of wrath within you. Don't you want to avenge her? Don't you want to kill the oni who did this?"

"Dammit, Naoki," Takuro slapped his palm against the ground. "Calm the hell down. Just leave me alone."

"Leave you alone?" Naoki barked a laugh. "You think those onis will leave you alone? You think you can hide here and—"

"Naoki, why are you being a dick right now?" Naoki's jaw clenched. "I'm not going anywhere right now, so piss off."

"Hiroshi could be in danger as we speak!" Naoki yelled.

"Yeah, well, I'd do the same for Mika."

Naoki seemed to fade into the background. His lashes lowered and he took a few deep breaths to steady himself. "What do you mean by that, Takuro?"

"I mean that I love Mika as much as he loves Nikoru," Takuro grunted. "Of course he's gonna wanna go looking for her—I would do the same thing because that's what you do when you're in love, but I'm really pissed off right now, so leave before I hit you."

Naoki had already fled from the room before Takuro had finished his sentence. "Hiroshi!" His shriek echoed around the house. "Hiroshi, don't look for her! Hiroshi, come back! Come back!"

Takuro, jolted out of his daze by the desperation booming in the tone of Naoki's anguished words, dropped Mika gently and raced to the door. He grabbed the knob and his eyes met Naoki's for a short instance. They struck a brand new fear within him—Naoki's dark eyes were merely pits, hollowed caverns of what once was there.

They were the epitome of insanity.

Takuro pulled the door shut and clung onto the knob, expecting Naoki to pull it his way like a madman. But he felt nothing. There was no struggle, no wiggle beneath his hand. He stood there at the door for another minute, waiting. Finally, he released the knob and pressed his ear against he door. It was silent—and then he heard soft murmuring.

"…why? I can't…what do I…how do I free myself, Eve? How…I can't stay this way…and she's dead, and I could have…I'm so scared."

"We will find a way…believe in me, please. I…those black books. They have to be…soon."

The corridor was silent once more. Takuro listened for a while longer, but he heard nothing.


	19. Horror of a Dog and a Freak

**Hey there. It's been a while. Forgive me for taking so long with this chapter; my laptop's been malfunctioning lately and it deleted several of my chapters and such. It happened to delete this one—three times—even off of my USB. So I got really pissed, instantly lost inspiration, and decided, to hell with it, I'm not gonna write another fifty pages if it's just gonna delete it again—no way in hell. But I watched _Cabin in the Woods_ and _Dodgeball_ last night and decided, why the hell not? Let's get back to this!**

**Hello, audience, and welcome back to Ao Oni: The Black Velveteen! I'm sure at least two of you missed this thing, and I'm excited to be writing it again! I missed you all, too, thanks.**

**X**

**Horror of the Dog…And That Freak, Naoki**

**X**

Nikoru carefully climbed over a chest someone had placed in the middle of the hallway. It was generic—small, wooden, and there was no reason for it to be there. She kicked the lid up and wasn't surprised to see that there was nothing inside. The first door ahead was tightly shut. There was a chuck missing in the bottom right corner and the edge was cracked, as if a nail had been dragged across it.

Coincidentally, the whining was definitely coming from behind it.

"Dog," Nikoru called. "Are you there? Do—"

Bark! Whine…

That confirmed it. Nikoru looked around for something to beat the door down with. After much consideration between a hammer and her own foot, she chose her foot. She took a step back. "I'm comin' for you, dog!"

_Bam. _

Her foot collided against the hefty frame of the door, but it merely wiggled in its hinges.

"Oh, you've got to be kidding," Nikoru muttered in a caustic huff. She battered it again, but it would not budge. "Come on, dammit!"

Bark! Bark!

"Shut up, dog!" Nikoru exclaimed, using as much force as she could muster into her leg. The door jiggled and bounced back out at her, much to her frustration. But that was not the last it would hear from her; she was halfway there and not about to throw the towel in. With a raging war cry, she hurled herself and body slammed the door. The retaliation knocked her back against the opposite wall. "Are you sure you can't—"

_Whine._

"Oh, shut up." Nikoru dropped to her knees and tilted her head, trying to catch a glimpse of the dog through the missing chunk of door. She could just make out an old shoe on the other side, and there were tangled strands of fur that tickled her nose. It had to be the dog. Standing, Nikoru started down the hallway, her eyes peeled for assistance. An eerie creak from the very back of the cabin caught her attention. She froze for a minute, weighing the situation, and after several seconds of silence, she continued again. The next door was further away than the others had been. "It can't be that bad, dog. I broke my wrist once, and it wasn't fun, but it wasn't really that bad."

Inside, there was a broom leaning against the paint peeled wall in one corner. There were pieces of ceiling scattered everywhere and the floor looked as if it would crack at any minute. Her foot kicked something across the room and the _thwack _of it hitting the wall startled her. She wondered if it were a rat and listened for the gentle scurry of frantic feet. There was nothing but the faint whines of the dog. Curiously, Nikoru searched for what she had kicked.

It glimmered in the dim moonlight that peeked through holes in the ceiling. _The clouds must have gone away_, Nikoru thought, unfocused. She crouched down to grab it and inspected it.

It was a collar. A dog collar, the metal engraved: _Willum._

"So dog's name is Willum," she murmured. "That's a stupid name."

Another groan of the floorboards out in the hallway sent Nikoru into a slight frenzy. She jumped and crept into the left corner by the door. Slowly, she sunk against it and clasped her whitened knuckles around the collar. There was a ruffling noise and then a grunt.

The hair on the back of Nikoru's neck prickled. The noise was inhuman. Something crossed between a pig and a gasp of pain. Nikoru felt her heart pumping as the sound neared her. She held her breath and sat rigid against the damp wall. Something shuffled down the hallway, it heavy footsteps earthquakes upon the rotting floor—Nikoru wondered if it would fall through—until it was just outside the door. Just outside.

It was right there. Right there. So close it was killing her. If it just stepped into the room…

The shuffling continued and paused again a few seconds later. Nikoru wanted to look—she was so curious—but she couldn't, not when she had witnessed what she had that day. It might not be an oni, but it sure as hell was dangerous, she knew. But the urge was so powerful and she was only so strong. She shifted to take a quick peek and jerked when she heard the telltale sound of a door unlocked. Apprehensive, she crawled closer to the doorway and peered out. Whatever it was, it had already disappeared into the room.

Woof! Woof!

The dog sounded aggressive. The floor creaked and a sharp _crack_ sent Nikoru whirling against the wall again. The dog howled and fell silent. Nikoru was confused, then furious. That bastard had done something to the dog!

She shoved the collar into her jean's pocket and looked around for a weapon. Finding her or hurting the dog—she'd mess him up either way! But that was only if he found her first and she had no other choice. There was no way in _hell _she'd challenge that thing unless she needed to.

Her hand brushed against something in the very back of the corner and she groped to see what it was. It was large, long, and jagged. Picking it up in her hands, she realized it was a drill bit. There was a rush of wind and the room became black. Not even the moonlight was there for comfort. Shaking, Nikoru crawled and peeked out through the doorway again.

The thing said something quietly, nonsensical, and a tall, deformed figure appeared in the corridor. Outside the dog's room not even ten steps away. And it certainly wasn't an oni: It's small, underdeveloped head almost reached the ceiling, its shoulders were placed lower at the base of a long neck, and its arms reached its kneecaps. Nikoru froze in terror and prayed to God the drill bit was enough to take the damned thing down.

She pressed her back against the wall again, stunned, but fell back too fast and too hard. There was that tension-filled silence again and Nikoru knew she had screwed up. She clutched the drill bit harder against her palm until it dug into her flesh and kept her eyes on the doorway, waiting. It could come any second and she had to be prepared. But she wasn't. How could you prepare for something like this? How could you be ready? She was petrified, her only thoughts of survival now, but she wanted to jump out a window or fade away into the shadows so that that thing would _never_ find her and—

And then all hell broke loose.

The thing shrieked, a blood curdling cry, and banged on the walls until Nikoru heard the boards crack. It screamed and shouted things. There was a pause between beatings, and then it resumed, but Nikoru could hear a screeching _chink_ and remembered the sledge hammer in the hallway. A hollow bang resonated as its head slammed against eroded wood, then the boards on the opposite side of the door from where she sat splintered and the entire wall was busted open—Nikoru nearly screamed when the sledge hammer's form became clear in the dark, poking out from between the cracked boards, and she pushed herself firm against the corner, boxing herself up, as it disappeared and came through to break the door frame. The vibrations rattled the walls and thundered against her back and dust and slivers of rotted wood fell from the ceiling.

Then she blinked and the hammer was gone—and she did scream when it crashed through the wall right beside her, where she had just been sitting, and tore a pulverized line all the way to the ground. There was a hand on top of the iron bar, large and ripped to shreds from splinters and sharp edges and nails, and it gushed with blood and tissue and muscle. The monster wailed and the hand reached sideways toward where she cowered in the corner. Without even thinking, Nikoru lunged forward and sank the drill bit right through its hand. It didn't even register when the monster howled and shrieked in agony and took its hand away, abandoning the sledge hammer.

Then it was running down the hall towards the entrance, its cries echoing off every surface. It strangled a sob and a sickening _thump_ make Nikoru's bones creak. It was crying now—no, sobbing, roaring—and the same sound forced Nikoru to cover her ears and whimper.

In some corner of her mind, she was grotesquely fascinated. It was as if it couldn't stand the thought of someone in its cabin. Maybe it assumed she was an oni, or maybe it was like Scarface and was insane. And now—was he putting himself out of its misery? She shuddered as the repulsive _thump_ grew harsher and louder. Then Nikoru had a sudden realization—it was a hammer. The one she had deftly stepped over before in the entry way. She could hear the metallic _clink _that echoed from the force of colliding against solid flesh—its skull. It was beating itself with a hammer. Nikoru put her head between her legs to keep the bile down. A loud _thud _of something hefty collapsing shook the ground. Nikoru listened as the desperate cries grew faint and then stopped echoing all together.

She sat there in that corner for what seemed like hours until the dog began whining again, reminding her what she was there for. Slowly, Nikoru snuck out into the hallway, her body close to the ground. While her eyes adjusted, she listened. The front door she had removed the broom from was just in her view; she could see the slivers of moonlight that had escaped the clouded sky. She hadn't even remembered there being a sunset. There was a trail of blood leading outdoors and a small hammer lie abandoned on the floor. It had witnessed everything and enticed curiosity within Nikoru, encouraging her to wonder, coaxing her to pick it up and look outside. Nikoru turned her head, disgusted.

Gingerly, she crouched before the dog's door and pulled it open inch by inch. The door bumped something with a gentle _thump_ and was followed by a soft _whiiiish_.

The lumpy, mussed gray tail was the first thing Nikoru felt as it brushed against her knee. She followed up the dog's lean body and met his piercing turquoise eyes with her own. She noted there was a small but deep gash stretched across his nose. He would have been fuzzy and fluffy if he hadn't looked like a manged pillow, but he was lean and would have been a dog of great strength had it not been for his recent misadventures, whatever they might have been. Nikoru kneeled before him and hesitantly reached out to stroke his clumped fur. He didn't seem ferocious in the least. His wide eyes searched hers for what Nikoru knew must be solace, and she was willing to give it because she needed the same thing in return.

"You okay, dog?" She murmured, voice shaky. "You must be Willum, huh?" The dog shifted and licked his lips. "I'm gonna get you out of here, okay? You're gonna come out with me." Her fingers brushed something slimy. There was a leather collar wrapped tightly around the dog's neck, attached to an iron hook jutting out of the ground beside him. Grimacing, Nikoru curled her fingers underneath and gasped as they were met with a liquidy warmth. A strained cry erupted from the dog's mouth and he became perfectly rigid. "Oh, shit." Her fingers flew back. Too grossed out to check her nails, Nikoru skimmed her fingertips around the collar, searching for a latch or something that could loosen it. "Shit, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Shit—there's no—no, uh, button, or whatever. Shit, I'm sorry—" Her fingers brushed a bad spot and the dog cried out again. "—I'm _sorry_!"

Nikoru stood, looking for something among the counter tops. She really didn't want to go back down the hallway after what had just occurred—nor did she want to leave after that. Her eyes fell upon a glistening surface and she grabbed it: a small hunting knife.

"Okay, okay, dog." She dropped back onto her haunches and pressed the blade against the soft leather. Her hand trembled, "Okay, dog, I'm gonna cut this off and then we'll get out of here, okay?" The dog whimpered. He was just as doubtful as she was. "Okay…sh—shit, let's do this."

The razor bit into the leather with minimal pressure, surprising and pleasing Nikoru. She grinned and patted the dog's head, relief washing tenderly over her and she dared to hope that the day—or night, whichever—would gradually get better. "Hey, this might not be as bad as we thought."

She rubbed the dull edge back and forth until she had made a deep incision. The fur below was matted with what Nikoru had to assume was blood from an open wound, so instead of cutting through, she took the collar between reluctant fingers and ripped through the seams. The last stitch snapped when it tore and the dog cried out again. This time, however, it was triumphant as Nikoru peeled the crusty material off of its neck.

"Holy shit, I got it!" Nikoru exclaimed vivaciously, holding up the collar between her thumb and forefinger. She smiled, excited and proud of herself. The dog pushed itself to its feet as if it had been of a heavy burden, but swayed against the cupboards and counters, still weak. Nikoru threw the collar to an abandoned corner of the room and jumped up. Legs wobbling, she stretched an arm out to grab one of the counter tops. "Hang on a second—I didn't think you'd be ready to go this soon! Maybe you should rest for a—"

There was a soft scuffle from the other side of the window and the dog stilled and its ears perked. Nikoru dropped to her knees, thankful she hadn't been in direct eyesight from the open section of the wall. They were both quiet and still as statues for several seconds until the dog turned towards the door and gazed expectantly up at Nikoru.

She sighed. The air rattled in her chest. "You're right, dog. We _can't_ wait."

They slowly made their way back down the uninviting hallway. Part of the floor had given in further down and there were holes and cracks in nearly every blood-stained board. Some patches were fresh, trickling and pooling on the floor, and others were already absorbed; disgusting red paint upon disgusting eroding walls. Such disgusting atrocities.

Nikoru wouldn't have stepped within two feet of the gaping and toothless front door if it hadn't been for Willum; at least now she wouldn't be beaten to death alone. She still felt as though she were walking off towards her malicious and excruciating death.

When they reached the doorway, Willum moved halfway through, his liquid eyes skimming. Nikoru moved back against the wall beside him and tried to ignore the horrors surrounding her. She focused on Willum instead and decided that he was a husky with the bright eyes and snowy fur.

"I've always wanted a husky," Nikoru whispered, trying to start conversation to distract herself from anxiety. "I think you guys are beautiful, but mom never let me have one. You guys cost too much." Willum glanced at her reproachfully. Nikoru held her palms up. "Hey, I'm just saying, and it's true—"

The bushy, tangled tail rose over her mouth and Nikoru sputtered with a mouthful of hair. "Ew, gross!" A growl rumbled in Willum's throat. Nikoru stared at him, bewildered. "You want me to be quiet." He snorted. "Oh. Okay. Oh…"

It was several minutes until Willum finally moved away and strolled out into the open. He pranced like a show horse, moving gracefully—had he not been beaten just five minutes ago? Nikoru watched him as she crept out onto the fallen door. "You…can you understand me?"

If he could, he didn't confirm it. Instead, he sauntered off towards the large gate. An overwhelming sense of loneliness crushed Nikoru as he crawled under the fence. Maybe he had dug a hole there. Glistening silver in the moonlight, his bushy tail was the last thing she saw before he was out of sight.

"I thought you got hurt, you dumb dog. You were playing me all along, weren't you?" Nikoru rubbed her tired face. She was horribly confused; the dog had been chained up and beat and he had been limping no more than five minutes ago. Now he was suddenly walking like a boss and he'd just skipped right along out the damn door and he'd left her all alone in the backyard of the House on Haunted Hill. "At least you get to leave. I can't…"

But, God, did she want to.

There were some really risky stairs climbing up the back wall of the manor to a small porch and a door. That was the nearest route back inside. Once she went in, there would be no turning back, no leaving. Why couldn't it have been Takuro or Hiroshi who had to make this decision? Why her? She wanted to scream; if she left, she would be safe, but her friends would probably be killed. There might have been a chance of their survival, but those oni were fast and determined. There was no way they could keep outrunning them all night—at some point, they were gonna run out of luck. Nikoru didn't want to be that rational, but she knew she had to be at this point. And she knew she had to stay; her friends needed to escape, and with the front door being completely inaccessible, this back door might be the only way out, the only source of survival.

"Got to do it," she whispered. "Ohhh, shit. I'm so skewered. Okay, be HiroshiPEN, be the ball…Hiroshi, you better thank me. A lot."

**X**

Takeshi had finally finished his episode just as Eve was losing patience in consoling him. Naoki hadn't even paid mind to them as he'd rushed past, shouting for Hiroshi, and Takuro was still sitting in the room with Mika, thinking silently. Takeshi's heart ached and twisted at the memory of the open wound on the back of her neck and those lifeless brown eyes he adored so much, wringing out a last tear from his dry eyes.

"I'm okay now," Takeshi murmured. He sniffed and rubbed his eyes. "Not okay, but…"

"Good," Eve said. "We need to find the books, Takeshi. Quickly, before—"

"Dammit, do you not realize my one true love is _dead_?" Takeshi shouted. He'd never lost his temper like that, but he needed someone to know how he felt, how his heart had fallen into his feet and cracked in two. "Eve, I've had a crush on Mika for _three years_. I've been in love with her _that long_. You—you just don't get it, do you? I love her, Eve, _I love her_! I don't care about those stupid books! I want Mika back—I wanted to be the one who took her place!"

Eve glared at him. "You think _my_ death was pleasant? Do you think anybody loved _me_?" She shook her head. "I don't think anyone is ready for death, nor are their loved ones. Whether her death was pleasant or not, at least she is no longer miserable. Nor can she be hunted any longer. I know exactly how it feels." Her firm eyes softened. "But I don't know what it's like to be mourned. I don't know if anyone did or not, but I wouldn't have expected them to. They weren't a very cuddly family, nor a very emotional one."

Takeshi growled. "I don't care, Eve. Dammit—I don't care! I just want Mika back!"

"Sulking won't save her!" Eve snapped. "You want to save her? Then we'll save her!"

Takeshi cringed. "You…we can…she can be?"

Eve hesitated. She covered her mouth with one hand and took a few steps forward, focused on the ground. "Well, yes, it's possible. I've never tried myself, but it may be possible…"

"How?" Takeshi followed her and grabbed her shoulder. She was so cold after she had shared her energy with him, yet she was soft. Her shoulder was smooth and warm around the blade. "How can we save her?" Realizing he was touching her and sucking out some of her needed warmth, he dropped his arm. "Wait—do you think she could be _here_? Like, here in this _mansion_?"

It was almost too much to bear. "It would be possible," was Eve's simple reply. "It may be selective; I am here, yet my brother is not. But I would assume it is. But…"

"But what? You just said it's—"

"It is!" Eve exclaimed. "You must be sure you want this. This isn't a light situation, nor is it going to be easy."

"I want to!" Takeshi snapped. He stared meaningfully into her eyes, determination hard on his face. "I really, really want this, Eve. What do we do? I'll do anything to get her back."

Eve took a deep, quivering breath and nodded. "All right. Then we'll have to search the manor." She leaned against the railing. "That would be the first—but take caution of the—"

"Of course," Takeshi agreed. "Can't be too difficult. I'll go upstairs, you go down. To the, uh, to the basement." He leaned closer to catch her sightless eyes. Eve felt her breath catch; she was mesmerized with those soft, puppy dog eyes. They reflected a warmth Eve hadn't felt for so long. "Okay? Eve, is that okay?"

"Yes," Eve heaved. "Yes, that's right…But, Takeshi, what about Takuro?"

Takeshi blinked. "What about him? He can't rescue Mika, but _I can_. I can get her out of here!" He charged up the stairs. "We'll re-meet at the front door!"

Eve lowered her lashes. "There's much more to this house than you understand. There are many more places we have yet to explore and there's..."

But he was already gone. Eve sighed; he could have just drifted up through the floor if he'd wanted to hurry. Why the hell did he take the stairs?

**X**

Hiroshi was hiding in the bathroom. He was a man, he could admit that—just not out loud. He'd heard Naoki chasing after him and had no interest in speaking to him at the moment. Maybe not for a really long time.

He'd locked the door the moment he'd stepped inside. There was a crack in the door, on the bottom, one that Hiroshi hadn't noticed before. It wasn't that large, but Hiroshi kept himself quiet, just in case.

He pulled the book out of his pocket and wiped his glove over the gritty surface. The Black Velveteen, huh? What was this, some sort of spell book? He'd tried opening it several times, but the cover would never move. It was glued in place, possibly by enchantment, though Hiroshi didn't want to look too far into it. Maybe it wasn't a book at all, just some crafted look-a-like to fool everybody, or maybe it was just an ordinary book that was nailed or glued shut.

An ordinary black book that emanated a strange and powerful aura, the sort that could knock you off your feet if you walked over it; it was like a magnet. No matter where Hiroshi went, the thing was always pulling him. He hadn't actually noticed until he'd been sitting in the back closets. Maybe it had been what had led him to Nikoru, what had led him to Mika. What was it doing? Was enchantment possible? Hiroshi was beginning to believe the craziest things; if numerous Ao Oni existed, then an enchanted black book could be, too.

Had he found a black book…Why had Naoki asked that?

More importantly, where had his scarf gone? He had assumed it would be on the stairs where he had fled the oni, but he hadn't seen it at all. Maybe he just wasn't looking hard enough; his head was boggled with craziness and he was already distracted what with all the chaos.

And Satō was gone. Where the hell did _he_ go? And what happened to him? How was he possessed and the others not? Maybe an oni had gotten hold of him or perhaps he was hiding in a closet upstairs. Takuro could handle himself even in his depression, right? Right. He was a football player. And Hiroshi couldn't help but remember the time he'd knocked a guy out with his guitar at a football game.

Hiroshi pocketed the book and sighed.

Maybe he was worrying too much. He was probably thinking too much, too. He didn't have time to worry about all this, nor could he focus when he did because when one concern came, another did, and then another, and he couldn't focus on them all anymore. The house was too weird, the occurrences were even weirder, and everything else was covered in shadow and suspicion. It was almost too much; this worrying was making him crazy. The more he thought, the more he worried, and then he felt like throwing himself over the second floor railing. It was always right after a crisis when he thought, and none of his thoughts were very positive. It wasn't doing him any good, but he couldn't just not think at all. Then he'd never keep up with everyone else and he'd never remember where they were or what they were doing and then he would never find them if he suspected they were in danger. Like Mika. Unless they kept up with themselves, _then_ he'd be free of responsibility—but they were _his_ friends, therefore _his_ responsibility, and one of them had already died and another three of them were missing.

"What am I doing? HiroshiPEN, what sort of hero are you? That's right, you're not one. But we have to do our best, don't we?" He threw his head back against the wall. "Oh, what am I saying? I'm talking to myself! I thought only Nikoru did that…" He trailed off. Jaw clenched, he turned to the mirror and gripped the sink, leaning over it as he glared angrily at his reflection. Such disappointment: glasses lopsided, wild hair, pallid skin; but narrowed, blazing eyes. "Why did I never say anything? Well, I won't let the opportunity go next time, I swear it. I'll find you and we'll breathe together. Don't go yet—don't go like Mika. I have to say something first, I have to tell you—but dammit, it's so hard believing in you!"

Silence fell upon him, filling his ears with an oceanic rush. The waves crashed against him, harsh and calloused at first, then serene and calming. They filled him, consuming him until his reflection nodded, eyes sparkling with resolution.

No more worrying, it said. No more wondering if the others are going to be all right. We have to focus on saving them, and we can't do that when we're sitting in a closet _thinking_ about saving them. We have to go for it. We have to let everything go and do what we know we must. _Trust yourself._ And _trust the others_ or else we'll never escape this place.

"I do," Hiroshi replied immediately. "I must."

"Hiroshi-kun! Are you down there?"

Hiroshi took a precautionary step back from the door and watched it intensely.

"Please, Hiroshi-kuuun! Please, I—I need help! There—there's an oni down here!"

Why is he being so desperate? Hiroshi wondered cynically. He knows I know there's no oni down here. He's being rather peculiar.

"Hiroshi! Dammit, come out! I need to talk to you—it's serious."

I think not, Naoki. Not this time.

"Come on, Hiroshi!" Was that a sob? "I—I need you. I need you with me. I—maybe it's the atmosphere here, but I'm scared!"

There went all the resolution.

No, wait. Hiroshi's reflection stopped him, his hard eyes scolding. No worrying, remember? If Naoki doesn't wisen up and protect himself, he'll never leave this place alive. And what the hell's his problem, anyway? First he asks you for your book, then he runs after you, now he's begging you to come out? I think he's possessed, too. I mean, where has he been while all of this has been going on?

The bathroom door wiggled.

Hiroshi's blood chilled.

"Hiroshi! Hiroshi! Are you in there? Are you? Why is this damn thing—y—you're in the library, right? Right, you've gotta be."

You're going to want to run, the reflection said. Right now.

Soundlessly, Hiroshi fingered the lock and grabbed the knob, twisting it very, very slowly until the door popped forward. _Wreee_—Hiroshi nearly jumped out of his skin, then realized the door wasn't the source of the noise. He poked his head out and held his breath; Naoki was hovering in the library doorway. Then he disappeared inside.

"Thanks for stopping me." Hiroshi started forward.

"You're welcome."

Hiroshi stopped, eyes wide. Whirling around, his reflection mirrored his own expression of bewilderment. He thought he had been talking to himself this entire time. Had his reflection really just…?

No time, I need to go. Hiroshi bolted from out behind his shield, racing down the alley beside the stairs.

"Here we are," he murmured and began down the deserted corridor. "Those back closets seemed suspicious…why would they be there if there's nothing inside? And I could have sworn…"

A sharp wheezing startled him. Hiroshi whirled around, expecting Naoki or an oni, but there was nothing. More paranoia. There was a lot of that here. But, then again, maybe it was a warning.

It was settled. I was an oni, watching him. They watched everybody. You couldn't escape them. In this theatre, the audience could not see the cast, but the cast could see Hiroshi.

He walked faster until he had reached the open closets. The air was empty as Hiroshi stood there, waiting for something he did not know. Then, a cool draft wafted around his ankles, leaving a trail of goosebumps up his neck and down his legs. This time, Hiroshi pressed his hand against the book. It was vibrating gently.

"Something's back there," Hiroshi whispered. "I knew it."

The inside of the closet was a jungle of shadows. One could feel the heavy breath of the watching demons, hunters toying mercilessly with their prey; cat and mouse. But Hiroshi forced himself not to think of that, he couldn't disappoint his reflection. The tip of his toes nudged the back wall just above the border, a smug knowing flashing in his eyes when the force bended it like plastic.

"I thought something was strange." Once again, another hidden location in this stupid mansion. God, what he would have given to walk out the front door, leave this decrypted place and have his life back—his normal life of a normal existence in the normal world where there were no haunted mansions or demons or any Ao Oni. Fury pulsed inside his skull, raising his blood pressure, and, before he knew what he was about, Hiroshi was bashing in the drywall with an expensive dress shoe. "This place is going to be the death of me!"

By the second kick, the hollow wall was dented, and by the third, there was a hole. By the fourth, his foot had crashed completely through.

"Got it!" Hiroshi exclaimed, excited. For once, he felt as if he were really helping somebody. Which he wasn't, but he still felt accomplished. Inspired, he began kicking in another hole. "Got to get through."

"Can you let me through?"

Startled, Hiroshi jumped and his leg slid through the hole. Palms braced against the wall, he struggled to pull himself out. His foot wiggled on the other side as he turned slightly, mentally preparing himself for whoever or whatever was there.

Suddenly, something moved through him—he was fine, then all the warmth left his body, replaced by a frigidness that seized him utterly. The blood that boiled in his veins froze entirely before his heart stopped.

It was like before, when his soul had become barren and his thoughts had evaporated. It stirred a mixture of emotion, things that it made no sense to feel. Livid brown eyes appeared in his mind's eye, beseeching him for something she couldn't express aloud.

Abruptly, his mind was blank, and then reality was lifting him, a lantern in the nothingness.

Hiroshi shook his head and blinked. Mika was gone. She was really gone. Had she even been there, standing before him? He was beginning to wonder if she'd even existed.

"Stop it," Hiroshi spat, dragging his leg out of the wall. "Don't even start with that. Don't be emotional. Do this for the others." He kicked the wall again—another hole with a single kick. "Or do it for yourself. You want to escape, don't you? Well, dammit, I'm going to get us out of here if it kills me!"

**X**

There was no turning back for Takuro once he stepped outside the box, either. And not just in a rhetorical way; the room he was in was box shaped.

He was going to leave Mika there and help Hiroshi. He had to. They had been best friends since forever and he couldn't back out now. Part of him wanted to hide himself, but the dominant side knew that wasn't an option; what sort of man would he be if he couldn't even stand up beside his friends? All he stood for—everything his loving family and friends had taught him: integrity, self-respect, courage, responsibility—it would be meaningless, and so would he. How could he ever respect himself again if he chickened out when his best friend needed his help?

This was the sort of situation one would enter as a boy and leave as a man.


End file.
